Twelve Days
by DracOnyx
Summary: COMPLETE YYYB Main Pairing. Christmas is the season for massive changes . . . and even the spirits aren't immune.
1. On The First Day Of Christmas

Disclaimer – I don't own them, I just play with them.

Author's Notes – Well, I figured it was about time I did a holiday story. Hope you guys and gals enjoy it. Hopefully, I'll be posting a chapter a day, as well as adding to Redemption one of these days. That story just doesn't seem to want to be written atm. I do apologize for that.

Twelve Days

A Yu-Gi-Oh Christmas Story

Chapter 1 – On The First Day of Christmas – A Tomb Robber in a Tall Tree

Yami sighed, crimson eyes closing with relief as he flipped the store's sign over to 'Closed'. This near to the holiday was crazy in the shop, and he was still amazed at how mortals of this day and age went nuts at this time of year. Yugi had said it was a holiday that was supposed to celebrate some man they called 'Christ', but that in fact it had just become a reason to give and receive gifts. He shrugged to himself . . . whatever the case, the shop was bringing in relatively good money at this point, which was a relief. It helped that his name – and his title, he admitted sheepishly – was quite firmly tied to the little store . . . but in any event, he was glad. With Yugi getting ready to start college, they needed the money.

Thinking of his aibou, where was the youth? He should have been home from school ages ago, and he hadn't mentioned going out with their friends to Yami this morning, nor had he said anything through their mental link all day. That in itself was suspicious . . . even this far apart, they were usually in constant contact with each other. What was his little light up to?

Concentrating on the link, he tried to locate his light, and came up against what felt like a brick wall? When had Yugi learned to shield so well? And why was he shielding now? Tan fingers drummed lightly on the glass countertop near the register, crimson eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, he shrugged . . . it was obvious Yugi wasn't in danger, whatever was going on. He would just have to wait and find out what his aibou had been up to.

Leaving the shop, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror hanging in the hallway and smiled, shaking his head in amusement. He was becoming vain . . . but then again, it had been five thousand years since he could see himself in a mirror, and he was still trying to get used to the fact that he had a body again. This was a relatively new occurrence, him being able to form his own corporeal body completely separate from his aibou . . . he'd only been able to do it for about six months now, and he was still unsure of exactly how he had done it in the first place.

He snickered slightly as he remembered when it had first happened . . . he had awakened, cold and shivering, on the floor in Yugi's room, with a very astonished aibou staring down at him in shock. It hadn't been funny at the time, of course . . . actually, it had been downright frightening, and embarrassing. But after several discomforting moments, during which he and Yugi had stared at each other in shock, they had gotten over it . . . especially when Solomon had walked into the room. That had been an interesting development, considering that Yugi had never quite gotten around to explaining to his grandfather that the Pharaoh who the Puzzle had once belonged to actually 'lived' inside said Puzzle at the moment.

A smile graced the aquiline features as he remembered the impromptu gathering that had followed. The friends had been gathered, and introduced . . . which in itself had been most amusing. Many of them had met him, several times in fact, but had thought that little Yugi might be just a tad bit schizophrenic. Meeting him in person had laid that dilemma to rest, at least . . . but the looks of shock had been priceless all the same.

Of course, Seto had yet to meet him in person . . . the millionaire CEO was, as usual, busy with his business and had no time for the group of 'friends' that he considered nothing more than an annoyance. That was fine, however – Yami had no real interest in facing the tall brunette anyway. If he did, he would likely put a fist through that arrogant face for being such a major asshole.

The house was quiet with his aibou out for the evening, and Solomon was away at a gaming convention, finding out what new products he could add to the store when the new year began. The bad thing about being alone in his own body was that he got bored easily . . . like now. TV wasn't nearly as amusing as the games he was famous for were . . . perhaps he could head over to Kaiba Land and get a couple of duels in.

That idea settled quite nicely in his head, and he went upstairs to gather his duel deck – painstakingly crafted and gathered to mirror the one he and Yugi had used together for so long – and grab his heavy leather jacket. Grabbing his keys from where they hung beside the back door, he stepped outside and locked the door carefully before going around front to make sure the store door was locked as well. With that accomplished to his satisfaction, he strode off down the street, looking forward to some challenging duels and a brief respite from his boredom.

----------------------------

Bakura snarled under his breath as he ran, dodging trees and strolling mortals easily as he heard the shouts behind him. It figured that the guards in this time weren't nearly as dumb as the Pharaoh's had been . . . they were tracking him far too easily. This new time would require more getting used to than he had thought.

Glancing around, he spied a tall fir tree not far from the path . . . one who's upper branches would provide at least some decent cover until the 'police' had decided that they'd lost him. Sprinting for the tall plant, he leapt up, grabbing a hold of one of the lower branches and pulling himself up easily before beginning his ascent further up the trunk. Once he felt he was hidden well enough from below and all sides, he settled onto a branch, closing his eyes with relief and running a hand through the spiky white hair as a grin crossed his face.

Ryou would be annoyed, but that wasn't a concern . . . he enjoyed tormenting the boy anyway. Being separated from his host had lost him the mortal shield he relied on, but he could wreak so much more havoc this way. Without Ryou to hold him back, he was fast on track to becoming a master thief once again, something he enjoyed immensely.

Still, he wondered how this situation had come about. Waking up one morning to find himself separated from his host had been downright annoying, although Ryou had been somewhat delighted with the fact. He had been disgusted with it, and had tried to undo the whole mess . . . before the possibilities had opened up in his mind. Now they were settled into a rather comfortable routine . . . the boy was far too forgiving, but Bakura wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, it wasn't as if he could steal a place to live.

The police passed by below his position loudly, swearing as they discovered he had disappeared. Bakura grinned to himself . . . okay, so maybe the 'guards' of this time WERE as stupid as the Pharaoh's had been. That was nice to know. It made things so much easier for him.

They wandered on, still swearing, and the thief snickered slightly before a dilemma dawned on him . . . how was he supposed to get down?

"Shit," he muttered, staring down at the ground below with a wary eye. This was not exactly what he would call a great getaway. Sure, he'd gotten up here easily enough, but getting down was an entirely different story. "Damn, damn, damn," he swore, clenching his knees even tighter around his precarious perch. Now he had a problem.

He thought about calling out to Ryou, but then thought better of it. The last thing he needed was the little brat knowing what kind of mischief he'd been up to . . . or the predicament he'd gotten himself into as well. He'd never live it down . . . he, a master thief – a five thousand year old master thief at that – had gotten himself stuck up in a tree.

"Wonderful," he grumbled. "Just fucking wonderful." He sat there, pondering his dilemma and trying to come up with a way out of it. Nothing came to mind. "I am not spending a night in a tree," he snarled. Unfortunately, it looked like he wasn't going to have much of a choice.

----------------------------

Yami whistled cheerfully as he traversed the familiar pathways of the park on his way to Kaiba  
Land. He was astonished by the number of police in the park, but thought nothing of it . . . until one of them approached him.

"Excuse me sir," the man said, holding a hand up to stop him. "You haven't by any chance seen a white haired male, about five foot seven, around here, have you?" One black eyebrow rose at the officer's question before Yami shook his head.

"No, officer . . . I'm afraid I haven't," he replied. "Why, if you don't mind me asking?" The officer sighed.

"He's a thief . . . he hit a jewelry store over on main street, but got away. We tracked him here, but now he's disappeared. No one seems to have seen him." Comprehension dawned on Yami's face, as well as a nagging suspicion that he knew this thief better than he would have liked.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance, officer," he lied, unhappy with having to do so. But as much as he would have liked to help the man by telling him exactly who he was looking for, he couldn't. He and Bakura, as former spirit's, had no true identity in this time. Therefore, having Bakura taken in by the police could cause far too many problems – especially since the Tomb Robber was likely to 'spill the beans' about everything just out of spite. However, that didn't mean he couldn't locate the thief on his own and do something about this problem.

He would handle that particular issue later, though. Right now, he had a desperate need to duel, and he wasn't going to be sidetracked from his plans. Walking away from the police, he continued on his way, admiring the surroundings as he went. Domino was much different than anything he could remember experiencing . . . snow covered the world in a thick white blanket, a cold beauty that still spoke to him. He remembered his first experience with snow fondly . . . Yugi had talked him into going outside after the first snowfall, and they had stood in the whirling flakes cheerfully until Yugi had decided it was time to introduce his dark to the finer things about snow. The snowball fight that had ensued had left them both shivering with cold and flushed with exertion, but it had been worth it to see the grin on his aibou's face.

Yugi and he had yet to regain the full comfort of their relationship that they'd had before the 'Orecalcos' incident. That he had let his rage control him to such an extent that Yugi had been hurt still haunted him, and his aibou was far less trusting of him than he had been before. He couldn't fault Yugi on that . . . he was less trusting of himself as well. Their friendship had been somewhat strained since then, but they were slowly mending it, although Yami kept a firm reign on himself after that. He had even stopped dueling for a while, until Yugi had told him in no uncertain terms that he was doing more harm than good by doing so.

He sighed, glancing at a tall pine tree off to his right as he did so. Something wasn't right about that tree, however, and he turned his attention more fully to it . . . and glimpsed a flash of gold in the high branches. Curious, he went to investigate . . . and found himself staring up into all too familiar eyes.

Bakura snarled to himself as he met the crimson gaze from his precarious perch, practically daring the Pharaoh to laugh. This was NOT something he needed . . . of all the people to find him, it had to be the damn Pharaoh!

"What are you looking at, spike head!?" he snapped, hands tightening on the branch that held him. "Never seen a person climb a tree before?" Yami smirked, and he promptly wished he could get down so he could smack it off that smug face.

"Well, aren't we a bit snappish today," Yami called, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's wrong, thief? Can't get down?" He smiled as he saw the truth of that statement hit home, shaking his head as laughter bubbled up inside of him. "What a sorry state, indeed."

"Oh, shut up, Pharaoh," Bakura growled, red-brown eyes narrowing in irritation. "Why don't you do something useful, and help me get down?" Yami chuckled dryly, leaning up against the tree and staring out at the snow covered park steadily.

"Why would I want to do that, Tomb Robber?" he said, making sure his voice carried so that the thief could hear him. "You look quite comfortable up there . . . besides which, I think it would be suitable punishment if you had to spend the night up there after dodging the police."

Bakura shivered violently, a chill breeze creeping up his spine. This high up, it was getting quite cold, and he still wasn't used to this kind of weather, nor had he really dressed for it. Well, now he knew that the Pharaoh knew what he'd been up to . . . he wondered what Yami was going to do about it. In the middle of his wondering, he sneezed explosively, nearly falling from his perch as it threw him off balance.

Yami glanced up towards the thief, concerned despite the circumstances as he felt the tree against his back shake with the sudden movement. Crimson eyes narrowed as he really took in Bakura's position and circumstances . . . the thief was beginning to shiver uncontrollably, his teeth chattering even as he tried to quiet them by gritting them together, and there was a bright flush on his usually pale skin. As much as he disliked the thief at times, he wouldn't wish getting sick on anyone . . . he'd already been through that, and he'd been thoroughly miserable for the entire three days as he lay in his bed, too weak to move as coughs and sneezes wracked his aching body.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," he muttered, before pressing his hands against each other and summoning his concentration as well as the power that was still stored in the item around his neck. The Eye of Horus began to glow softly on his forehead, but he was far less concerned with that than with concentrating on getting his fellow spirit down.

Bakura nearly squeaked in alarm as he felt Shadow Powers wrap around him, lifting him easily off the branch and taking him downwards slowly before setting him on his feet on solid ground at last.

"Thanks," he muttered, before turning to stalk off . . . only to have his legs give out beneath him as another mind blowing sneeze caught him off guard. He stumbled, coming up in shock as he felt Yami catch him and pull him into his warm body, holding him there for a surprising moment before he was released and the Pharaoh stepped away quickly.

"You're welcome," Yami said, shoving his hands back in his pockets. What in the world had possessed him to grab the thief like that? Yes, Bakura had been about to fall, but still . . . that was no excuse. He shook his head, smacking himself mentally before looking back at the white haired man warily. "Are you going to make it back to Ryou's house in one piece? Or should I escort you to make sure you don't get into anymore trouble?" Bakura snarled at him, and he laughed dryly. "Fine. Good luck, thief . . . you're going to need it." Turning he walked off, trying to squelch the growing concern that he really should have escorted the thief home to make sure he got there alright. Why did he even care? The Tomb Robber was a pain in his ass, and it wasn't as if they were friends. Quite the opposite, in fact. Besides, he had duels to win.

Bakura watched the Pharaoh walk off, trying to stifle the urge to call him back and have him help him home anyway. He was feeling decidedly shaky at the moment . . . and not all of it was due to the oncoming sickness. The feeling of Yami's body pressed against his still lingered, no matter how much he tried to shove it out of his head, and he growled to himself before starting off towards the house, watching his steps carefully in case he should fall. He doubted he could get back up if he did collapse, his legs were that shaky at the moment.

What in the world had gotten into him? Besides the cold, that was . . . he was shivering violently at the moment, even with his arms wrapped around himself. Why had the Pharaoh's momentary embrace sent his pulse racing, his breath barely passing the sudden constriction of his throat? He hated the man . . .

Shaking his head in annoyance, catching himself against a tree until the world righted itself again after the movement, he stalked home, determined to put the whole embarrassing and curious event behind him. After all, five million years of hatred was not something to be thrown away lightly.


	2. On The Second Day Of Christmas Two Worr...

Chapter 2 – On the Second Day of Christmas – Two Worried Lights

Yugi walked into the house quietly, carefully stashing the bag of Christmas gifts he had bought in the hallway closet before making his way into the living room where he could hear the TV humming quietly. He was glad that the others had invited him to go shopping after school . . . his dark was notoriously curious when he had to go out from the house, and he would never have been able to get out the door without telling his other where he was going. Of course, he was also very late . . . much later than he had expected to be, and he was surprised Yami hadn't tried to contact him through their link.

Now that he really thought about it though, Yami had been keeping his distance lately. Ever since the events in America, where his soul had been taken by Dartz to feed the great beast, he and Yami's relationship had been somewhat strained. He cared about his dark . . . there was no doubt about that . . . but at the same time, he was slightly in fear of him as well. He was old enough and wise enough to at least admit that, but he knew he'd tried to hide that from Yami. Tea had told him how devastated Yami had been after that fateful duel, and Yugi had no wish to add to that burden of guilt . . . but he suspected that he hadn't done nearly as good a job as he would have liked. The former Pharaoh was too perceptive by far . . .

He smiled as he came into the living room, only to find Yami draped over the couch, unconscious. His duel deck lay on the coffee table next to him, as did the Millennium Puzzle, and Yugi wondered what Yami had been up to. His dark easily got bored . . . had he been dueling? But who had he been dueling against . . . all of their friends had been with him at the mall. He glanced back towards the door, and amethyst eyes finally settled on the wet boots that Yami usually wore. So he had gone somewhere to duel . . . probably Kaiba Land.

Shaking his head in amusement, he wondered how many people his dark had trounced this time around. It was no mistake that Yami was a fierce duelist . . . he'd earned his title of King of Games back in Egypt the hard way, and in this time it was no different. He thoroughly enjoyed a good game, especially when no one was in danger, as was usually the case in their lives. He frowned at that thought, his mind returning to his former thoughts.

How could he go about repairing their trust in each other? He missed Yami . . . missed the comforting presence of his dark on the other side of their link at all times, day and night. There was also loneliness that he'd sensed in his other lately . . . a longing for something more, something that Yugi couldn't give him. Yes, he loved Yami . . . but it was the love for a brother, guardian, and close friend. Yami needed more than that, but Yugi had no idea who could give that to his dark. Certainly not Tea . . . while his friend was highly attracted to Yami, his dark wasn't even remotely interested in her other than friendship, and even that wore out at times when Tea got into one of her friendship speeches. And Mai was with Joey, so that wasn't an option . . .

His thoughts flickered to Bakura before he laughed mentally at himself. What a ridiculous thought . . . the Tomb Robber and the Pharaoh getting together! Yeah, right . . . the two of them hated each other passionately! Besides, he didn't even know if his dark swung that way! Still . . . such utter hatred had to stem from something . . .

Shaking his head at his own idiotic thoughts, he pulled a blanket off the back of the chair nearby and draped it carefully over his dark, leaving Yami to sleep where he was. His dark wasn't exactly a cheerful person when awakened against his will, and Yugi was more than willing to leave the questions as to where he had been until tomorrow morning. Smiling down at his sleeping other, loving the way Yami's features smoothed into peacefulness when he was asleep, he shut the TV off silently, and made his way upstairs to go to bed. He had school tomorrow, after all . . . he didn't go on Christmas vacation until the seventeenth, and that was three days away. After that, he had all the time in the world to work on his relationship with his other . . . right now, he needed sleep.

He dropped into his bed wearily, falling asleep quickly as the snow once again began to fall outside, blanketing the world in another layer of comforting, cold white.

----------------------------

The phone ringing early in the morning awoke both Yugi and Yami with its shrill peel. Yami staggered upright, groaning as his spine popped from spending another night on the couch, before Yugi called down that he was going to get it.

Yami tried not to sigh in relief at hearing his aibou's voice from upstairs . . . he'd fallen asleep waiting for the youth to come home last night. He reminded himself to ask Yugi where he had been . . . before calling himself to task for such idiocy. His aibou was a teenager . . . what right did he have to ask for an account of his actions? If he was going to show Yugi that he trusted him, perhaps the best way to start was to allow him to make his own decisions. Yawning, he made his way into the kitchen to begin fixing breakfast for him and his young hikari . . . if he left it to Yugi, the boy would merely grab a slice of toast as he rushed out the door, late for school as always.

Upstairs, Yugi had scrambled across the room for the phone, leaving a trail of blankets and his pillow in his mad dash to reach the ringing item.

"Hello, Motou residence," he said into the handset.

"Yugi," a soft British accent replied. "I'm sorry to call so early, but I wanted to catch you before you began the whirlwind." Yugi chuckled slightly, dragging the phone back to his bed and crawling back under the covers before talking. He was notorious among his friends for his morning ritual . . . which usually included dashing around like a chicken that had its head cut off in the attempt to get ready and out the door on time for school. It wasn't his fault that he hated mornings almost as much as his dark did!

"Good morning, Ryou," he said. "Don't worry about it . . . this just means I get a head start on my day. Are we still meeting at the park to walk to school?" He heard Ryou sigh, and tilted his head curiously, burrowing further underneath his blankets. Why did his room always seem so cold first thing in the morning?

"Actually, that's what I'm calling about," Ryou murmured. "I'm not going to be at school today . . . Bakura's sick. Could you pick up my school work and bring it over after school? I have to stay home and take care of him . . . he's in pretty bad shape."

"Sure," Yugi replied. "But . . . how did Bakura get sick? What happened?"

"I don't know," Ryou said softly. "I came home last night and found him in a shivering heap in the living room. The strange thing is, he had pine needles all over the place and kept going on about Yami and weird feelings." He paused for a moment, and Yugi could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "Do you think maybe Yami knows what might have happened?" Yugi shrugged before he remembered Ryou couldn't see him.

"I don't know, Ryou . . . I'll ask him," he said. "Hold on a moment." Yami? he called through their link.

Yes aibou? came the reply. What's wrong?

Nothing . . . but Bakura's sick. Ryou said he was muttering something and mentioned your name . . . you wouldn't happen to know why, would you? He felt amusement suddenly, and then froze as Yami sent him a series of images before starting to giggle. Oh my, he replied, unable to keep the laughter out of his mental voice. That must have been priceless . . . do you mind if I tell Ryou? He felt his other's compliance and smiled slightly.

"Ryou, you're not going to believe this," he said. "Apparently, Yami found Bakura stuck in a tree on his way to Kaiba Land last night. He helped him get down. Yami won't tell me why he was up in a tree in the first place, but there's your answer to the pine needles." He listened to Ryou laugh slightly on the other end of the line.

"No wonder he was swearing about Yami," Ryou finally said, once he'd gotten his breath back. "I'll bet it just kills him to have been found in such a predicament by your dark." There was a shout in the background, and Ryou sighed again. "He's in pretty bad shape, Yugi . . . I'd best get back in there and make sure he doesn't try to get up. I swear, if he were any more stubborn . . ."

"Okay, Ryou. Good luck with Bakura . . . I'll swing by after school with your homework," Yugi said before they both hung up the phone. Sighing, Yugi cuddled up further under the blankets, unwilling to move just yet. It was nice and warm under here . . . he began to drift back off to sleep before he remembered that Yami was already awake. If he knew his dark right, the former Pharaoh was already cooking breakfast . . . and there was still the questions Yugi was sure he was going to be asked about his whereabouts of yesterday evening.

Muttering under his breath, he climbed back out of the blankets and assembled his school clothes, slipping into the blue slacks, white shirt, and blue overcoat before belting his choker into place around his neck. Socks came next, and then he ran a brush quickly through his hair before making his way down stairs.

"Good morning, Yami," he said as he walked into the kitchen. Yami turned from the oven, and Yugi stifled a giggle at the speck of flour adorning his dark's nose. "About last night . . ." He stopped in surprise when Yami raised a hand, waving it absently as if moving the words aside.

"Don't worry about it, Yugi," he replied, turning back to the pancakes so that he wouldn't burn them . . . again. "So, why was Ryou calling so early in the morning?"

Yugi was stunned for a moment . . . Yami wasn't going to ask him where he had been last night? Amethyst eyes narrowed thoughtfully, staring at his dark's back for a moment, wondering what was going on. With a shrug, he settled at the table. If something was going on, Yami would tell him soon enough, he supposed.

"Ryou's staying home to take care of Bakura," Yugi said. "He asked me to bring his school work to him after school." Yami turned from the oven, flipping the pancakes onto a plate before looking at Yugi.

"I figured he would get sick," Yami muttered. "Stupid thief." He paused before continuing. "Should Ryou really be missing school? Don't you have those things you call 'finals' coming up for the semester?" Yugi sighed, and nodded unhappily.

"Yeah . . . but there's nothing else he can do. Someone has to take care of his yami." He glanced up at Yami as some strange emotion flickered through their link, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at the thoughtful look on his dark's face. "Yami? What are you thinking?" He watched as the former Pharaoh brought the plate of finished pancakes over to the table before returning to the stove to shut it off.

"If Ryou should not be missing school," he said after a moment, "Then perhaps there is someone else who could stay with his dark." He sighed. "I can go over there for the day . . . I suppose I can deal with a sick thief. Ryou should not have to suffer in his school work for his yami's stupidity."

Yugi stared at his dark, completely caught off guard by the suggestion. Yami was willing to go over there and spend the day in the same house as the Tomb Robber? Amethyst eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You aren't going to do anything to him, are you?" he asked. Yami actually turned around, looking rather offended by the suggestion.

"Aibou, do you really think so little of me that I would kick the thief when he is down?" he asked. Yugi was instantly sorry . . . of course his dark wouldn't do such a thing. He rose and strode over to his other, wrapping his arms around the lithe figure in an apologetic hug.

"I'm sorry, Yami," he murmured. "I know better than that . . . you wouldn't do anything to Bakura unless he did something first. I shouldn't have said anything." He stepped back, staring up into the crimson eyes solemnly. "If you're really willing to do that for Ryou, let me go call him and let him know." Yami nodded, and he slipped into the living room to use the phone, all the while wondering what was going on. Yes, his other was willing to do anything for his friends . . . but to deliberately submit himself to putting up with Bakura for an entire day? That was going a little far, even for the former Pharaoh. But he wasn't about to say anything more about it

"Hello?" Ryou answered the phone quietly.

"Ryou, hi," Yugi said in response, "Hey, I've got a strange proposition for you. Yami said he'd come over and take care of Bakura so you don't miss any school." There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone . . . if it wasn't for the background noise of the television, he would have thought they'd been disconnected somehow. "Ryou?"

"Yeah . . . I'm here," Ryou murmured finally. "Yugi, are you sure that's such a good idea? I mean . . . they don't exactly get along well . . ."

"Yami's the one that suggested it," Yugi replied. "If he's actually willing to do it, who am I to argue?"

"That's great, Yugi," the white haired youth said. "I really don't want to miss school with finals this Friday. If Yami's willing, sure . . . come on over. We can walk to school together from here." Yugi glanced at the clock.

"Okay . . . give us about thirty minutes," Yugi said. They said goodbye and hung up with each other, leaving Yugi to stare down at the phone thoughtfully. Something important was happening . . . he just wished he could figure out what. He had this feeling that there was a major change just around the corner . . .

----------------------------

Ryou met the two tri-haired men at the door, putting a finger to his lips to signal for quiet as he shut the door behind him.

"Bakura's sleeping," he said, buttoning up his jacket. "He's been terribly grouchy all morning." Yami looked at him steadily.

"When isn't the thief a grouch?" he asked, causing Ryou and Yugi to chuckle slightly.

"You've got a point there, Yami," Ryou said after a moment. "But at any rate . . . I've given him some cough medicine, although I had to practically force it down his throat because of the taste. Otherwise, he's pretty weak right now . . . he barely had the energy to move from bed to the couch. So you shouldn't have too many problems with him. Just try not to let him get on your nerves." Yami smirked slightly.

"When does he NOT get on my nerves?" the Pharaoh murmured. "But I promise, I won't send him to the Shadow Realm unless he really starts pushing his luck." Yugi shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead in disbelief as amethyst eyes closed wearily. Somehow, he suspected this day was going to be more nerve wracking than any other in his short life. "At any rate, the two of you had better get off to school. I will watch over the thief . . . although he really does deserve this, for getting stuck up in a tree." Ryou snickered slightly as he and Yugi began to move off.

"You really do have to tell me all about that, Yami," he called over his shoulder. "That must have been quite a sight." Yami merely shook his head, his own smirk curving his lips slightly before he turned to walk into the house.

The interior of the house was neat and orderly - just like Ryou to keep a perfect house. He could hear soft snores from the living room, and chuckled slightly as he left his coat and shoes beside the door before walking further into the house. He slung the book bag he had brought with him off his shoulder, setting it into one of the overstuffed chairs before going to check on his 'charge' for the day.

Bakura was out cold on the couch, his pale face flushed with fever, white hair limp with sweat. Yami stared down at him for several moments, surprised by the change the thief's features took on in sleep. Resting, the white haired man was rather beautiful . . . the pale features were angular, long charcoal lashes lying against the raised arch of cheek, lips smoothed into a kinder expression than the usual sadistic smirk that twisted them out of shape.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Yami returned to the over-stuffed chair, moving his bag to the floor before curling into it comfortably and digging a book he was reading out of the depths of the item to distract himself. The fact that he found Bakura rather attractive when he was sleeping was disturbing . . . the man had been a pain in his ass five million years ago, and he'd only gotten worse with time. Finding him to be 'cute' was not exactly a comfortable thought.

He lost track of time easily with his nose buried in a book on Egyptian history, and it wasn't until the thief moaned and coughed harshly that the crimson eyes arose from the pages, only to meet stunned red-brown across the charcoal grey carpet.

"Pharoah!" Bakura said, his voice hoarse. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's Ryou?" Yami rolled his eyes and carefully put the book down so that he could focus all his attention on the volatile thief.

"Your hikari went to school . . . he has those 'final' things this week, after all. I volunteered to come over and keep an eye on you." Bakura snorted, and then coughed raggedly, drawing in a deep breath as the spasm finally passed.

"You mean to torture me," he snarled weakly. "Laugh it up, Pharaoh . . . enjoy it while you can." Yami sighed, leaning forward in the chair so that he could meet the annoyed gaze head on.

"Believe it or not, as you will, Tomb Robber, but I did not come to irritate you. I would rather not be here . . . I had to leave the store closed today to do so. But I have been sick, and I know how it feels . . . you will need someone to help you." Bakura growled at him, turning his face away so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He nearly started out of his skin when the aquiline features hove into view, just before Yami lay a cool hand upon his aching forehead.

"You still have a temperature, I see," he murmured. "You will have to have more of that 'medicine' Ryou showed to me." The thief smacked the hand away angrily, trying to ignore the tingling sensation Yami's touch had left on his skin.

'I'm losing it,' he thought grouchily, shoving the feeling out of his head. 'Five thousand years, and now I'm starting to fall apart.'

"I am not taking that shit," he growled, struggling to sit upright. "Bad enough Ryou managed to force it down my throat this morning . . . I will not willingly submit to that torture again." Yami smirked, and he suddenly wanted very much to rip that grin off the Pharaoh's face. How dare he smile at his complaint!

"I have to say I agree with your assessment on the taste of modern medicine," Yami said lightly, standing up and heading for the kitchen. "However, it works, so you will simply have to deal with it, thief." Bakura snarled at his back, finally achieving some semblance of elevation before collapsing against the arm of the couch weakly. He waited for Yami's return with something akin to dread . . . he'd been unable to keep Ryou off of him this morning, and he had even less of a chance against the Pharaoh. But he'd be damned to Maat before he took that foul tasting concoction again!

"I am not taking that shit," he repeated as Yami came into view, bottle and spoon in hand.

"Fight all you want, thief," the former spirit replied, smiling slightly. "It might actually be amusing." Bakura had the sinking feeling that Yami was actually looking forward to him fighting . . .

'This . . . is the pits of hell . . .' he thought to himself. 'And I'm stuck in it.'

----------------------------

Yugi sighed, staring up at the clock and wishing it would go faster. It wasn't even lunch time yet, and he was already worried about Yami. His yami and Ryou's didn't exactly get along . . . hell, they had been enemies for over five thousand years! He hoped there was still a house for Ryou to go home to when the day ended.

"I'm sure they're fine, Yugi," Ryou whispered from the desk next to his. "Bakura couldn't even hold me off this morning . . . Yami will be more than a match for him." Yugi shook his head.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he admitted dryly, amethyst eyes glancing sideways to meet the chocolate gaze of his friend. "I can't help but wonder why Yami so readily offered to watch over him for you today. You do have to admit, it's kind of suspicious." Ryou smiled and shrugged slightly.

"Maybe they've finally stopped hating each other," he replied hopefully, drawing a snort from the smaller duelist.

"Yeah, right," Yugi said. "And maybe people will stop coming after the Millennium Puzzle and trying to take over the world." Ryou sighed, but had to give him the point. The likelihood of Bakura and Yami ever getting along was about as much as that of Kaiba and Joey ever stopping their incessant fighting.

There was, however, those disturbing mumblings of his dark's this morning, after he had fallen asleep. He'd been muttering about a tree, and some stupid guards, and all of the sudden he'd started talking about Yami. And not the usual 'I hate that stupid Pharaoh' rhetoric that he spouted constantly. Something about Yami's touch, and stupid feelings had popped into the mix, and it left Ryou wondering. What exactly had happened between the two spirits yesterday?

"Yugi," he said after several moments, "Did Yami mention anything strange about yesterday's encounter with my yami?" Amethyst eyes glanced at him, confusion evident in their glittering gaze.

"No . . ." he replied slowly. "Why?" Ryou shrugged slightly, chocolate eyes examining the desk in front of him as he thought.

"I don't know," he murmured softly, the British accent rounding the words in gentle consonants. "It's just . . . five thousand years is a long time to hate a person, don't you think? What if . . . what if that hatred is just a cover to something else?" He shrugged again, white bangs covering his eyes from sight. "Bakura's had some really weird dreams of late . . . and through most of them, Yami's name has come up. I'm just . . . I wonder if maybe he doesn't hate Yami as much as he wants us to think he does."

Yugi sat back, considering the soft words carefully, mulling them over silently in his mind. Ryou did have a point. Yami had been acting strangely as of late as well . . . whenever Bakura's name came up, he was quick with his dislike of the former thief, but often the emotions didn't match the words. And then there was his strange reaction this morning to the news of Bakura being sick . . .

"It's possible, I guess," Yugi said finally. "But I sure would pay to see it if it's true."

----------------------------

Yugi was relieved when school finally let out for the day. His link with his dark had been silent all day, which made him wonder just exactly what was going on over at Ryou's house . . . or rather, if there was anyone left alive over there at all. He waited for Ryou near the front door, anxious for his white haired friend to show up so they could get to his house.

When Ryou did finally show up, he practically dragged him out the door.

"Yugi, goodness! What ever is the rush?" Ryou murmured, struggling to keep up with the half-jogging Yugi as they headed through the park towards the house Ryou shared with Bakura and his father when the man was home.

"I just . . . oh, I don't know, Ryou," Yugi said, finally slowing down to a walk. "I guess I'm just worried that something might have happened. My link with Yami has been awfully silent all day today . . . have you heard anything from Bakura?"

"Only a small grumble about his medicine and the taste," Ryou replied. "Other than that, nothing." The house finally hove into view as they walked in silence, and their pace picked up again with the promise of warmth in sight. Ryou unlocked the door and ushered Yugi in ahead of them. The two boys hurriedly discarded their jackets and shoes before walking into the living room . . . and freezing in the doorway at the bizarre scene before them.

"Yami!" Yugi gasped, stunned at his dark. Yami was currently sitting on Bakura's chest, his legs pinning the Tomb Robber's arms to the couch, a spoon filled with medicine held in one hand, the other clamped over the thief's nose. Bakura was turning a rather spectacular shade of bluish-purple, brown eyes glaring up in mute defiance and anger as his lips pressed against each other so tightly they were white.

Yami glanced over his shoulder at Yugi's gasp, but otherwise made no move to let the Tomb Robber go. The thief had been stubborn about taking his medicine earlier in the day, and Yami had been forced to beat him in a Shadow Game to get him to take it that time. This time, the thief wasn't being nearly as stupid as to accept his challenge, so he'd had to resort to more physical means. But he would be damned if he let the thief get away with not taking the damn medicine, no matter how bad its taste.

It wasn't that he cared about the thief . . . rather, it was the fact that Bakura hated the stuff that made him so determined to make him take it. Or at least, that's what he kept trying to tell himself.

Ryou stood, trying to decide whether he should laugh at the ludicrous situation or rescue his dark. Laughter won, bubbling up within him as Yugi stepped toward his other.

"Yami . . . what in the world are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"He has to take this medicine, young one, or he will not get better. But since he is . . . disinclined . . . to do so in a calm and courteous manner, I've had to resort to forcing him. This is the only way I could think of to do so." Bakura growled underneath him, and he turned back to his captive. "You are not getting anywhere with this, thief," he murmured. "You might as well just take the damn stuff and be done with it." If looks could truly have killed, he would have been dead ten times over at this point, as he well knew by the hard, murderous glint in the brown eyes.

"Ryou . . ." Yugi began, seeing the alarming shade of deep purple that the white haired yami was slowly becoming, "Shouldn't we stop this?" He turned to his friend, startled to see that the boy was doubled over in silent laughter, his shoulders shaking as he tried to keep the near hysterical giggles from escaping.

Bakura wiggled one hand, wishing desperately that he could get to a knife or some kind of sharp object. Unfortunately, the Pharaoh had him thoroughly pinned, and he was starting to see dark spots swim before his eyes with a lack of oxygen. But he would be damned if he let the Pharaoh shove that vile concoction down his throat again! The stuff was absolutely horrible! Then there was the rather unpleasantly pleasant feeling of Yami pressed against him, even in such an uncomfortable predicament. That was only serving to make him angrier by the moment, and more unlikely to take the shit, just to spite the bastard.

Yami sat, poised like a Viking god, simply waiting for the moment when Bakura would open his mouth in order to breathe. He was slightly tempted to let the thief go . . . he was turning a rather bad color, if what Yugi had explained to him about health was true, but he was not going to let him get away with not taking this damn medicine. He glanced back over at Yugi, checking to see that his aibou didn't think him completely nuts, when the body beneath his suddenly went limp.

"Bakura!" Yugi said, hurrying forward as the thief passed out from lack of oxygen. "Yami, get off him!" Yami arose, but not before he had forced Bakura's mouth open and dumped the spoonful of thick, syrupy purple medicine down his unconscious throat.

It seemed that it had an instant, and altogether unpleasant, reaction on the former thief. He jolted awake, sitting up and sputtering horribly as the taste made him gag. The sudden upright motion threw Yami off balance as he was rising, and he staggered backwards, hitting the wall with a dull thud and a grunt of pain. That was the least of his worries, however . . . Bakura was up off the couch in a flash, and heading straight into an attack.

Luckily . . . or unluckily as the case could be argued . . . the former Tomb Robber was still weak from illness and his swing went wild, throwing him off balance and sending him crashing into Yami. The Pharaoh barely had time to catch him before they both went down in a heap, a tangle of arms and legs as both hikari's finally gave in and began to laugh hysterically. It was all simply too much, and too bizarre, to take anymore.

Crimson eyes stared up into red-tinted brown from where he lay beneath the pale thief, feeling Bakura's legs entwined with his own. The slim form was pressed tightly to him, his arms wrapped around the trim waist where he had tried to catch the sick former spirit before they had both fallen. He felt a flush creeping up his cheeks at the other's nearness, and it disconcerted him greatly. What, by all the gods, had gotten into him?

Bakura was having a similarly disconcerting experience of his own, his reasons being much the same. The feel of Yami beneath him was wreaking havoc on his already over-tested libido, and the firm lips right below his were slowly becoming much too tempting to ignore. Having already spent an entire day in his nemesis company . . . company which had not been all that unpleasant, if he was honest with himself . . . he had already been having thoughts he wasn't pleased with.

He sighed, his breath puffing against those soft looking lips, staring into the widened crimson eyes before a slight smirk crossed his features. What better way to torment the Pharaoh . . . and make him taste the lingering vile concoction he called 'medicine' for himself? With a weary and not altogether feigned slump of his shoulders, he pressed his lips to the Pharaoh's, and tried to ignore the jolt of pleasure that shot through him at the contact.

Yami gasped at the caress of Bakura's lips against his own, unintentionally allowing the thief to plunder the inner recesses at will. He was torn between two reactions . . . on the one hand, he was tensed and ready to shove the thief off of him and gag, and on the other hand he simply wanted to relax into it. Throwing the thief off won when he remembered his aibou was in the room, however.

"Gah!" He tore his mouth away, gasping for breath as he planted his hands on the other man's shoulders and shoved . . . hard. The Tomb Robber rolled off of him easily enough, still weak from being sick, but the grin on his face was enough for Yami to suddenly remember just how much he hated the former thief. "If you ever do something like that again, I will make sure you spend the rest of eternity being culled . . . with a spoon," he spat, scrambling to his feet before dragging the back of his arm against his lips. He wasn't sure just exactly why he was mad . . . was it because he had enjoyed the brief contact, or because it looked like Bakura had merely been toying with him? He glared as Bakura chuckled, and strode from the room like a brewing thunderstorm.

Ryou and Yugi watched him storm out of the room, astonished at the entire incident. After exchanging a quick glance, they promised to call each other later and ran to attend to their yami's, pondering the strange turn of events they had just witnessed. It had definitely been . . . unexpected.


	3. On The Third Day of Christmas Three Dis...

Disclaimer – Nope, still don't own them.

Author's Notes – Day three, here it be : ) I'm glad all of you enjoyed the scene with Yami trying to make Bakura take his medicine . . . me and my hikari spent hours discussing that one before it actually got written. I have to admit, it's one of my favorite scenes that I've ever written.

So anyway, here is Day Three. I'm trying to keep this on a once per day basis, posting each day as it passes, but considering I had surgery yesterday which is making it difficult to sit in front of the computer for extended periods of time . . . well, let's just say I'm hoping I don't fall behind or it would ruin my whole timeline.

Well, enough of that . . . here's the next chapter of Twelve Days

Chapter 3 – On the Third Day of Christmas – Three Disturbing Events

Yami was still ranting by the time they got back to the house.

"I can't believe that bastard! He kissed me! ME! That son of a jackal kissed me!" He stormed into the house, throwing his book bag onto the couch before storming up the stairs. "I'm going to go puke . . . and bathe that filth's FILTH off of me!" he snarled.

Yugi stared after him, caught somewhere between amusement and shock. He'd never seen Yami so riled up . . . if he didn't know better, he would have sworn the source was not only Bakura's actions. But that wasn't possible . . . was it?

He retreated to his room, and picked up the phone, intent on talking to Ryou. Something was going on between the two yami's, and it wasn't simply business as usual.

"Hello Yugi," Ryou murmured the minute he picked up. "I suspected you would be calling. How is Yami?" Yugi chuckled slightly, settling onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the shower run.

"Still storming around like he's been violated," he replied quietly. "Bakura?"

"Smug as hell and coughing up a storm . . . when he's not chuckling over what he did," Ryou said in a disgusted tone. "I swear . . . I don't know how I put up with him." Yugi snorted wryly, shifting into a more comfortable position. "But that's beside the point, I'm afraid," the young Brit continued. "What the hell do you think that was all about? Why the hell would he kiss Yami?"

Yugi sighed, shifting back into a sitting position with his back against the wall, his feet dangling off the bed. That was the question, wasn't it? Why would Bakura, who supposedly hated Yami with a passion that hadn't dimmed for five thousand years, have suddenly kissed him? Unless it was some elaborate scheme to get back at his dark. But he didn't think even Bakura would have stooped that low . . . at least, he would have sworn to that if he hadn't witnessed what he had.

"I don't know, Ryou," he said finally. "But it seems odd, even for Bakura. And unless I'm wrong, Yami's not only pissed because of the kiss itself. There's something else there . . . but he's hiding it really well. You don't think . . . you don't think they could actually be growing to . . . like . . . each other. Do you?" Ryou sighed on the other end of the phone, and the sound of the white haired boy shifting his own position came through clearly.

"It seems rather far fetched," he murmured. "But at the same time, I can't really say it isn't likely. I mean . . . that Bakura would EVER kiss Yami is shocking in and of itself. But he's acting really weird too. After you guys left, he got the strangest look on his face . . . almost like he was hurt by Yami's reaction. But he's covering it up really well, also – if that's even what it was." He mumbled something under his breath and sighed again. "The only thing we can really do is sit back and see what happens."

Suddenly, Yugi had an idea. It might not be the safest one, nor the smartest, but he was overdue for one of Joey's patented light bulb's anyway, so he figured – what the hell?

"Hey Ryou . . . let's say we throw them together as much as possible. See what comes up from that." Ryou gasped, and a shocked moment of silence followed before he giggled slightly.

"They'll either kill each other, or end up admitting to whatever it is they're hiding," Ryou said. "I like it. I didn't think you were that devious."

"Neither did I," Yugi replied. "But then again, maybe my yami is finally rubbing off on me after all." They said their goodnights after promising to come up with some ideas and talk about them tomorrow.

Smiling slightly, Yugi listened as Yami finally emerged from the shower, still grumbling about 'stupid Tomb Robbers' and 'how dare he'. Something told him it was going to be a long night . . . but for once, he was looking forward to it.

----------------------------

Yami bolted upright in bed, panting as he clutched at the sheets covering him, and grimaced as he discovered the mess he had made of them.

He wasn't sure which was more disturbing . . . the fact that he'd had such an erotic dream that the evidence was there in real life, or who he'd had the dream about.

"What in the nine hells of Anubis did that Tomb Robber DO to me!?" he snarled, rising from the bed with a frown of disgust. The dream lingered all too vividly, and he shook his head, trying to clear the images of the thief doing THAT to him from his head. It was no use, and he found himself even more thoroughly disgusted when his body started reacting to those erotic images yet again. He'd never felt so out of sorts . . . not even when he'd lost Yugi to the Seal had he felt so off-balance. What the hell was wrong with him?

Stripping his bed of the soiled sheets, he prowled downstairs and shoved them in the washer before returning upstairs for another shower. This was getting out of hand . . . he'd had erotic dreams in the past, but NEVER of someone he hated so passionately as Bakura! Even Kaiba was preferable to the Tomb Robber!

He scrubbed himself harshly, paying little mind to the water temperature as he tried to sort out whatever was going on in his head. This was simply too much . . . first he rescued the white haired thief from a tree and got a flash of desire when he'd been pressed against him, then he'd spent an entire, not all unpleasant day in the bastard's company and somewhat enjoyed a brief kiss, now he was having dreams! If five thousand years hadn't been enough to break him, this was surely pushing the limits of his sanity!

Snarling to himself, he stepped out of the shower and dried off with a brief, vigorous towel rub before climbing into the leather pants and gold silk he'd brought into the bathroom with him. It was still early in the morning as of yet . . . perhaps he could force the images out of his head with some mindless television. If he got really lucky, Bakura wouldn't need a keeper today, because he certainly was NOT volunteering for such a thing again.

----------------------------

A groan from the pile of blankets in the darkened room broke the stillness of early morning, one pale hand rising out of the tangled mass to brush the covers aside, revealing a disheveled mass of spiky white hair.

Bakura bit back a curse as certain parts of his anatomy hit the cool air, and suddenly got a whole lot colder. He shook his head, staggering to his feet before making his way slowly for the bathroom, unsure whether he was going to be sick, or simply disgusted.

How could he possibly have a dream so erotic about the Pharaoh!? What the hell was wrong with him! That kiss had been merely a game . . . hadn't it? Growling under his breath, he climbed into the tub after he had run the water, sinking up to his nose in the warm water and letting him soothe the aching muscles his illness had left him with.

This had to be one of the most . . . well, to use one of his 'oh so proper' hikari's words, displeasing . . . things that had ever happened to him. He had enjoyed that kiss. He couldn't deny that . . . the feel of Yami's body against his, lips pressed tightly together, had done some wonderful things to his groin that he REALLY didn't want to contemplate. It wasn't possible that he was actually attracted to that pompous son of a camel . . . was it? And the taste of the Pharaoh . . .

He groaned, sinking even deeper in the water as he realized just where his thoughts were heading again. He was NOT falling for his enemy! It just wasn't possible . . . he hated that bastard! He'd hated that bastard for five thousand years!

The problem was, the more he thought about the problem, the more he began to suspect that his problem really was that he was beginning to feel something for the former Pharaoh. Disgusting as that thought was, it was looking more and more like the only possible answer. Shaking his head in disgust, he rose from the water, dripping wet and shivering uncontrollably as he toweled off and stalked into his room, throwing on a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt before collapsing in his chair, staring at the wall across from him in annoyance.

This was not going to be pleasant . . . he had two options here, and neither seemed plausible considering the circumstances. He could either shove these thoughts out of his head and continue on as he had – something which he highly doubted was going to be possible anyway – or he could go for it and see what happened. But that thought wasn't exactly a comfortable one either. Yami hated him as much as he hated . . . or rather, HAD hated . . . the former Pharaoh.

Why, of all the people in the world for him to start lusting after, had he chosen the Pharaoh? That's all it was . . . it had to be. It was lust, pure and simple. No complications, no added problems . . . he was after Yami's body, and that was it. He wouldn't allow the other thought – that he might actually be developing feelings for the tri-haired annoyance – to take root. That was just too preposterous. There was no way he could be falling in love with that asshole.

Was there?

----------------------------

Yugi and Ryou were once again on the phone, after spending the night in contemplation of the possible developments between their yami's. Neither had come up with any answers . . . but they'd gotten some rather interesting clues that morning.

The washer running off-balance had awoken Yugi first thing this morning, as well as the shower running for the second time in twenty four hours for his dark. He'd gone down to rebalance the load while Yami was in the bathroom, grumbling under his breath about spirit's who didn't learn how to run a clothes washer properly. He'd been startled considerable to find Yami's bedclothes the only items in the tub of the machine . . . and that, of course, had him wondering just why his dark had thrown the items in there first thing in the morning anyway.

It seemed Ryou had experienced a similar circumstance at his house as well . . . Bakura had stormed up the stairs from his basement bedroom, sheets and blankets in hand, shoving them into the washer and turning it on before returning to his room. What had intrigued Ryou about the whole thing was the minor blush that had stained his dark's face when he noticed the smaller boy watching him, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

If Yugi was correct in his suspicions, both yami's had been through an uncomfortable night. But what had triggered such a simultaneous event? Talking it over with Ryou, they could only come up with a single thought – the kiss the two had shared the day before.

To test the theory, they determined that asking questions would be the best way to go about digging up more information . . . or rather, their yami's reactions to certain questions. Giggling slightly, they hung up with each other after promising to meet each other in the park at the usual time.

Yugi sat for several minutes, simply staring at the phone as he thought things over. It did really seem like the Tomb Robber and the Pharaoh were beginning to have feelings for each other, which made sense in a sort of twisted logic. After all, they were the only five thousand year old individuals on the planet, which made them uniquely suited to each other. Thing is, those five thousand years had been spent hating each other, so what had caused the sudden turn around?

It was intriguing, and slightly disturbing. His dark, in love with the Thief King. But, was it love? Or was it simply hormones over-reacting to five thousand years of celibacy? It was an interesting dilemma. Rising from his bed, he made his way down to the kitchen after collecting his book bag and all his homework from his desk.

Yami was already puttering around in the kitchen, but his aura was strangely disturbed as he worked at the stove. Yugi examined his dark carefully, not entirely pleased with the signs of stress his other was showing. It did, however, lend a certain weight to his current considerations, however . . . what reason would Yami have to be disturbed so much first thing in the morning, unless he'd had a dream that didn't sit well with him. He could guess what the dream had been about, and unless Yami had taken to dreaming about Seto Kaiba (he shuddered at that thought), there was only one other person in the world that could have his dark so tense.

"Doing laundry a bit early in the morning, aren't you Yami?" he said, settling down at the table. He tried not to snicker when his usually confident and unshakable dark jumped as if he'd been shot, before turning to him with a bland expression plastered on his face. That wasn't fooling Yugi however . . . Yami's eyes literally were windows to his soul, and right now they were showing a surprising amount of consternation and wariness.

"My apologies, aibou," Yami murmured after a moment before turning back to breakfast. "I wanted to get them into the wash so that I could put them in the dryer before I opened the shop today. I suspect I will be terribly busy and was afraid that I may not have the time to do it later on." He could tell from the look in those amethyst eyes that his aibou had not bought into that excuse, but it's the only one he was willing to offer.

After waking so early in the morning, he'd spent the last two hours gazing at the television, unfortunately seeing absolutely none of it as he mulled over the current dilemma. The fact that Bakura, of all people, dominated his thoughts was not a pleasant prospect at all. If only he could remember his past . . . if he could have done so, than perhaps he could have better maintained a hold on the anger and disgust he felt towards the former thief. Unfortunately, he only had his recent memories since Yugi had released him to go upon, and those were not proving adequate, especially not in light of his nemesis change in demeanor since becoming separated from his young hikari.

Admittedly, Bakura was still an asshole, and a sadistic prick, but he was no longer after the Millennium Items. At least, not so far as Yami had seen thus far. Considering that he now held three of the items in his possession, he'd been very careful to keep an eye out for a certain thief, but so far Bakura had made no move to try to claim those items for himself. That in itself had been a strange, albeit welcome, change in the white haired spirit.

Of course, now that he had to actually live WITH Ryou, rather than living as him, he'd become a bit nicer towards the youth. He still considered him weak, and was still rather harsh with the young man his aibou was becoming, but he no longer threatened the boy, which was a relief to all concerned parties. He avoided everyone else as much as possible in their small group of friends, but that was minor. Yami often did the same, feeling uncomfortable in their presence. Being five thousand years old did have a tendency to make one stand out in a group of teenagers.

All in all, Bakura had become a somewhat likable individual, which only made it more difficult to continue to despise him. The fact that his mind and body were now noticing just how desirable the former thief was only added weight to the wrong side of the equation, especially in light of current circumstances.

"Bakura's feeling better," Yugi murmured behind him, and he tried not to startle at the sudden mention of his current preoccupation's name, as well as hide the relief that washed through him at the statement. The last thing he wanted was for his aibou to know that he'd actually been worried about the thief.

"Good," he said shortly, scraping the scrambled eggs out of the pan before taking the utensil to the sink before the stuff could dry and stick. "Then Ryou won't need to find someone to baby-sit him today." Yugi smirked at the off-handed tone . . . Yami wasn't fooling him, and he suspected his other knew that as well as he did. But that was fine. This was one game Yugi was determined to win. Yami needed someone other than him in his life, and Bakura would fit the bill quite nicely . . . if they would both simply cooperate. But nothing was ever that easy with the yami's.

'There is something there,' he thought to himself, smiling down at his plate as Yami made his way to his own seat. 'We just have to get them to admit to it.'

----------------------------

Bakura made his way slowly into the kitchen, not quite sure which he was dreading more . . . the beginning of the whole damned day, or the look his hikari was bound to give him. It was unfortunate that Ryou had seen him with his soiled bed clothes earlier . . . but so help him, if the boy said anything about it, he was going to beat the shit out of him without a single regret.

Surprisingly, Ryou did neither of those things. What he did say, however, nearly froze the usually unshakable Tomb Robber in his tracks.

"Yami was asking how you're doing," the boy said conversationally, his elbows up to suds in the sink, doing the dishes before school. "And Yugi made a suggestion . . . if you're feeling a bit better today, Yami could use some help in the store. Christmas season has been pretty busy over there, and he could use a hand." He turned at the silence, and nearly giggled at his yami's shell shocked expression.

The Pharaoh had been asking about him? That was Bakura's first thought, and the warm feeling that went through him from it nearly threw him for a loop. He shook that off and continued on to the next thought before that one went further than he wanted it to, and he was forced to head back down stairs.

"Why would I want to go over and help that jackass?!" he snarled finally, settling into his chair at the table. Ryou sighed . . . of course Bakura was going to be difficult about this.

"Because he came over here to watch over you yesterday, and from the looks of it, you gave him a hard time. The least you can do is go help him today," he said. The thief snorted, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Unless you want to admit that he's a better man than you." Ryou heard the chair scrape back across the floor, and smiled at the evidence of his barb hitting home. If you couldn't get Bakura to do something the nice way, a prick to his ego always did seem to work.

"Fine, brat," he growled. "I'll go. But don't expect this to happen too often." He stormed out of the room, leaving Ryou to grin over the sink and wonder what Yugi would think of his little plan. Forcing Yami and Bakura to actually work together would have to do something . . . he just wasn't sure what.

He went to the phone to give Yugi the change in plans, grinning at having out-maneuvered his dark. Who said the Thief King was best at playing mind games?

----------------------------

"He's WHAT!?" Yami said, his voice level rising with his pique. "I do NOT need that thief's help! He'll be more a hindrance than anything . . . I'll have to keep an eye on him all day to make sure he doesn't STEAL anything!" Yugi propped his hands on his hips, glaring at his dark, who was just as happy to glare back with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're being unreasonable," the boy growled, his voice dropping into a tenor that made it eerily similar to his dark's. "He won't steal anything . . . there's nothing of massive worth in the store anyway! And you'll be manning the cash register all day, so there's no chance of that. For Ra's sake, yami, you were complaining just the other day that you couldn't wait until I went on Christmas break so you had some help!"

"Help is not something I readily associate with the Tomb Robber," Yami snarled back. Of course, he wasn't going to tell his aibou what he did associate with the white haired thief, because sex and beautiful were on the top of that list, and he still wasn't comfortable with that fact. To be honest, that was the main reason he didn't want Bakura anywhere near him at the moment. He was afraid of what he might do, or worse yet, say to the man who'd been his enemy for over five thousand years.

For that matter, what exactly did one say to a man like that? He couldn't very well just come out and say 'Hey, Bakura, I know we've hated each other for five thousand years, but let's put that all aside and fuck each other's brains out'. And telling Bakura that he'd suddenly developed a desire for him was just as impractical . . . the thief was notorious for turning shit like that around on a person. He'd rather just avoid the Tomb Robber entirely until this strange whim passed. That was what it had to be after all . . . merely a whim, his five thousand years of celibacy finally catching up with him.

"He's coming over to help, and that's final!" Yugi said, dragging him back to the current argument. "This is my grandfather's store, and you can't handle it alone! You never listen to me! Stop letting your damn pride rule our life!" Amethyst eyes widened as he realized he'd said too much, and he clapped his hands over his mouth as Yami staggered back, crimson eyes wounded. Just like that, he'd hit the heart of the entire problem between them, and had brought back memories they both wished they could forget.

Yami's will to protect him was often too strong, and if Yugi didn't agree with something Yami felt was necessary in order to keep him safe, the former Pharaoh simply ignored it. His pride was another problem . . . he couldn't bear to lose, no matter how small or large the stakes were. Thus the events in America, when Yugi's soul had been taken. Because of that, Yugi's trust had been shattered, and they'd only begun to rebuild it again . . . and now he'd gone and ripped all the wounds right back open.

"Yami . . . I . . ." he whispered, reaching out to his dark only to wince when Yami straightened and moved away abruptly.

"You've made your point, aibou," he said, his voice choked. "My pride is once again getting in the way. I will bow to your wishes . . . Bakura will help me in the store today." He glanced at the door as there was a resounding thud from the outside. "I will be in the store, getting ready to open. You had best go answer the door." With that, he walked away, leaving Yugi to stare after him, amethyst eyes glittering with tears. He gathered up his books in a hurt daze, before opening the door and slipping outside.

Ryou instantly knew something was wrong, and shielded Yugi from his dark's eyes as best he could.

"Yugi, what's wrong?" he whispered. Yugi merely shook his head.

"Later . . . I'll tell you later," he said, his heart in his throat. "Yami's . . . in the shop, Bakura." With that said, he started off toward school, his shoulders slumped sadly. The two white haired male's shared a look before Ryou started off after the smaller boy, leaving Bakura to stare after them, considering.

What had the Pharaoh's hikari so upset, he wondered. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. It wasn't his problem. Whatever was eating Yugi, Ryou would get it out of him. The store lights were on, and he could hear sounds of movement from within, so he headed in that general direction. If he had to help the damn Pharaoh, he might as well be about it. The faster they got started, the faster he could get away from the enigmatic former spirit and whatever strange feelings he was developing for the idiot.

He was somewhat startled to find his nemesis perched upon the stool behind the counter, his head resting in his hands, shoulders slumped wearily forward. He stopped for a moment, stunned . . . he'd never seen the Pharaoh look so beaten. It made him curious, and it also brought a strange pain to his heart – the one he could have sworn he'd got rid of.

As if sensing he was there, the crimson eyes rose to meet his gaze, and he was astounded by the pain in them. Was this really the man he'd hated for so long? The man he'd thought so callous as to condone the slaughter of an entire village to create the Puzzle around his neck? He watched as the pain drained away, leaving the steel gaze that he knew all too well, the game face falling into place to hide the pain . . . a form of protection that he was intimately familiar with.

"Bakura," he said, rising off the stool stiffly. "Thank you for coming over to help. I'm sure it wasn't exactly something you were eager to do." The thief shrugged, putting away this new glimpse into the former Pharaoh for later consideration.

"I had nothing better to do," he replied, crossing pale arms over his black clad chest. "It got Ryou off my back." Yami snorted slightly, but made his way out from behind the counter.

"Well, until we open the only thing that needs to be done is stock the shelves. I'll show you where everything is." Bakura almost didn't catch that statement, stuck on the fact that Yami was wearing some VERY tight black leather pants. He'd never really noticed just how good the Pharaoh looked in that stuff. And the gold silk of the shirt brought out the golden streaks of hair even more.

He shook his head rapidly, white hair flying as he shoved THAT particular thought completely out of his head. The last thing he needed to be doing right now was admiring the way the leather clung to certain areas of Yami's anatomy . . .

Instead, he followed the other spirit into the backroom, and tried to keep his mind on more mundane matters.

----------------------------

"Yugi, talk to me," Ryou said, finally catching up to the diminutive duelist. "What happened? You were fine when we were on the phone earlier . . ." Yugi sighed, raising tear filled amethyst eyes to the warm chocolate of his friend.

"I let my mouth run away with me," he replied quietly. "I brought up what happened in America. I didn't mean to . . . or maybe I did. I just don't know. You should have seen him, Ryou! It was like I had just shoved a dagger into his heart! I thought we'd come to terms with this, and Yami has been much better lately . . . why can't I just let that whole mess go?" He shuddered slightly, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Oh, Yugi," Ryou whispered, draping a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders and hugging him slightly as they walked. He'd heard about everything that had happened . . . Joey and the others had filled him in entirely. He'd spoken at length with Yugi about it afterwards, trying to help his friend mend the breaks in his relationship with his yami, and they both had thought that it was done and in the past. "I'm sure it will be all right. Yami still carries a lot of guilt over what happened, and you're right that his pride does often get in the way of doing the right thing. But he's never willingly put you in danger . . . you know that."

"I know," Yugi murmured. "But I hurt him, Ryou. I hurt him, and I don't know how to make it better. It feels like everything we've accomplished since we came back just fell apart again. What am I supposed to do?" Ryou shook his head sadly, giving the shoulders another comforting squeeze.

"I don't know, Yugi . . . I don't know," he said, and that was all that could be said.

----------------------------

The day went rather fast, but Bakura was almost relieved when it neared time for the hikari's to return from school. A day spent with Yami had been a serious strain . . . not by being near the Pharaoh himself, but by keeping himself aloof and egotistical, especially when several young girls came in expressly to flirt with the former spirit. He'd had the almost uncontrollable urge to lay claim to the lithe, tri-haired man right there and then, and damn to hell whatever consequences came from it.

He'd caught himself just in time, excusing himself to disappear into the back room, where he struggled to regain his hatred and anger at the man. Unfortunately, he hadn't quite managed to accomplish it . . . the hatred was harder and harder to summon now, and the anger, while still there, was more directed at Yami for not showing any signs of the same attraction rather than anything that had occurred between them before now.

He smacked his head into the wall, hoping that the headache would help him get himself back to rights. What the hell was wrong with him?! Lusting after his body was bad enough . . . but now there were even stronger feelings coming into play, making him increasingly uncomfortable. That glimpse of a wounded soul that he'd gotten this morning had stuck with him all day, wreaking havoc with his attempts to keep his distance.

There were giggles from out front, igniting a rather hard to ignore fire within him. He stalked back out of the storage room and froze as he beheld Yami giving one girl a gentle hug before pushing her out the door. Red-brown eyes narrowed in anger and he stalked towards the lithe figure, thoughts of maintaining his distance completely forgotten.

Yami smiled slightly, watching the girl's blush and giggle as they walked down the snow covered sidewalk, casting quite a few glances back towards the shop as they did so. It never hurt to flirt with the younger patrons . . . it kept them coming back to buy more, which was all to the good. And those had been the last customers in the shop for now, so hopefully he could get a little downtime.

He had to admit, Bakura really had been a big help today. While he had dealt with the customers, the thief had dealt with keeping the shelves stocked and all the minor other annoyances that came with running a game shop.

Thinking of the thief brought him to wondering where his fellow spirit had gone to. He'd disappeared rather suddenly about ten minutes ago . . . A hand landing on his shoulder and spinning him around gave him the answer, and he was ready to snap the Tomb Robber's head off for manhandling him like that . . . until he got a look at the red-brown eyes. For once, they weren't completely filled with hatred – there was anger there, but strangely enough it wasn't directed at him. He didn't have very long to wonder at it though, because Bakura shoved him back against the door, bringing their bodies flush with each other before he leaned forward and claimed his lips in a brutal, possessive kiss.

The crimson eyes flew wide, staring into the blood-tinted chocolate of the Tomb Robber in shock as the thief ravaged his mouth hungrily. A tongue flicked lightly over his bottom lip, teeth nipping at the soft flesh, and he gave in to the silent entreaty, opening his mouth to allow entrance to the other. He barely held back a moan as Bakura plundered the recesses, sagging slightly back against the cool glass of the door as one pale arm wrapped tightly around his waist, bringing him into even closer contact with the muscular body of the former spirit as his eyes closed.

His mind simply shut down, his body going on autopilot as a fire shot through him, pleasure seeping into him from the intimate contact he'd been trying to deny wanting all day long.

Bakura growled softly with pleasure as he felt Yami give beneath his hands, the lithe, delectable figure going soft against him. He'd stopped thinking about five minutes ago, and now he simply wanted . . . wanted Yami beneath him, with him, wanted HIM! He ran his tongue across the roof of Yami's mouth, teasing and tantalizing the other's tongue to join in the intimate dance. Pale lips left the warm cavern to trail over golden skin, tongue flicking out to caress the fluttering pulse at the base of the slim neck before trailing nips over the silk covered collar bone. He returned to the soft lips after a moment, gratified when Yami began to return the play and fight him for dominance of the kiss.

"Bakura! Yami . . . we're back!" Ryou called from the house behind the store. Red-brown eyes shot open at the voice, and he barely got a warning before Shadow Powers knocked him back, leaving him prone against the counter as Yami straightened, the Eye of Horus glowing on his forehead as crimson eyes stared down at him.

Yami was panting, struggling to regain his control as he glared at the prone thief. What the hell had that been about? And why did he want nothing more than to forget Ryou and Yugi were back and go back to what they had been doing? Had he finally lost his mind?! He pressed his hands against the cool glass at his back, shoving away from it and stalking into the back room without so much as a word to the pale haired thief, who was slowly getting himself straightened out as well.

Ryou came through the door not a moment later, Yugi trailing silently at his heels. They were met by a thoroughly peeved thief, who took one look at them and growled before stalking past them, grabbing his coat, shoving his feet into his shoes, and leaving. The white-haired hikari raised an eyebrow in curiousity, watching his dark storm out of the house as if the hounds of Anubis were at his heels. Had they missed something?

"Yami?" Yugi called, wondering where his dark was.

I am in the stockroom, Yugi, came the silent reply. Amethyst eyes narrowed thoughtfully . . . was it just him, or did Yami seem a bit flustered at the moment?

Bakura just stormed out of here in a huff . . . he sent. Yami gave the equivalent of a mental sigh, unease and guilt flickering through the link. 'Curiouser and curiouser', as the saying went . . . what did Yami have to be guilty and uneasy about? Unless it was about this morning . . . Can we talk? Ryou said he'll mind the store for a bit . . . He sensed Yami's reluctant acquiescence to his request and nodded to Ryou before joining his other in the storage room.

He was surprised to find Yami sitting on one of the unopened boxes of cards, flushed and somehow drained.

"Yami . . . about this morning . . ." he began softly. The crimson eyes rose to meet his, and he couldn't help going over and dropping to his knees before his dark, crying slightly into his lap as he wrapped thin arms around his other's waist. "I'm sorry! I was just trying to help, and I didn't think about how much you dislike Bakura . . . I didn't mean to say that, really I didn't! You just made me so mad . . ."

"It's okay, Yugi," Yami replied, his voice equally as soft as he ran long, tan fingers through his aibou's soft hair. "You were right . . . I needed the help, and Bakura provided it. I was simply being unreasonable, as you said." Yugi relaxed beneath his gentle touch, the tears slowly drying as he listened to his yami in both his mind and reality, hearing the echo of truth in the words through their link. "I do allow my pride to get in the way of what I should do, and I apologize for that, little one. It is a very hard habit to break."

"I know," Yugi whispered. "And you have been doing better. I was out of line with what I said this morning . . . forgive me?" Amethyst eyes arose, meeting the solemn garnet gaze before Yami smiled somewhat crookedly, leaning forward to lay a soft kiss on his forehead lovingly.

"Always, aibou," he murmured. Yugi lay his head back down in his lap, and he simply enjoyed the silence and the simplicity of the moment. After the events of the day, all he wanted now was peace in which to think.


	4. On The Fourth Day of Christmas Four Slo...

Chapter 4 – On the Fourth Day of Christmas – Four Slow Dances

Bakura growled under his breath for what felt like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes, stalking through the park angrily. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he was angry about . . . was it the fact that he had kissed Yami with the intent on laying claim to him, or that Yami had pushed him away the minute their hikari's came home? He wasn't even sure if he was angry . . . or if he was upset.

Licking his lips absently, he snarled at the taste of the Pharaoh that still lingered upon his flesh. This . . . was not . . . happening! He simply could NOT be falling for that man! Unfortunately, telling his mind that was very different from telling the same thing to the very heart he thought he'd lost five thousand years ago. There was something very wrong about this whole mess . . . but at the same time, when he'd held Yami in his arms, he'd felt the peace of soul he'd been missing for so long. It had felt so right, and Yami's subtle surrender to it had been like a heaven granted wish.

Pale hands clenched at his sides, and he suddenly lunged, throwing a fist into a nearby tree and then pulling back to watch the blood drip from his knuckles. Once upon a time, all he'd wanted was to see the Pharaoh broken and bleeding at his feet as he took everything the man held dear . . . now, the mere thought of it made him queasy. Had five thousand years really changed him that much? Or was it this new and unexpected mortality that had done this to him? If so, he would gladly go back to being a spirit.

Finally arriving back home, he quickly disappeared into his room, glad to be back on familiar territory at last. At least here he was still in control. Flipping on the radio, he dropped into his bed, letting the music wash over him as he tried to straighten his thoughts into an amalgamation that made some sense.

It wasn't until Ryou arrived home later that evening that he emerged from his basement den, having accomplished absolutely nothing during his thought session. He was still as confused and irritable as he'd been when he'd arrived . . . if anything, he was even more confused.

"Alright," Ryou started the minute he appeared upstairs. "What happened between the two of you THIS time?" The fierceness in his hikari's expression surprised him . . . he hadn't thought the boy had a single forceful bone in his body. That didn't mean he was going to tell the little brat anything, however.

"Nothing happened," he snapped, striding the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water. He would have dearly loved to get drunk, but there was nothing in the house, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to go out.

"Bullshit!" Ryou snarled, stepping forward and grabbing his arm before he could anywhere. "Damn it, Bakura, stop lying to me! Stop lying to yourself! You're starting to care about him, aren't you?" Red-brown eyes widened, staring down into the accusing chocolate of his light self's before they narrowed again in anger. He shrugged out of the restraining hand carelessly, stepping away from the youth before turning to face him.

"Me? Care about that arrogant prick? Have you finally lost your damn mind?" he growled. Ryou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at the former thief. Why did Bakura always have to be so damn difficult?

"Then why did you kiss him?" he asked smoothly, pleased when a flush spread across his dark's pale cheeks.

Bakura couldn't stop the blood from heating his face as he stared at his light in shock. How did Ryou know about what had just occurred back at the shop? Yami certainly wouldn't have told him . . . unless he wasn't referring to that event at all. He had kissed Yami yesterday as well . . . although his reasons at the time had been far different from what they had been today. Today he had wanted to lay claim . . . yesterday he had wanted to torture.

"It was only fair that he have to taste the crap he shoved down my throat," he said finally, after getting his flush under control.

"That's not it . . . at least, not all of it," Ryou murmured, looking smug. He tapped his forehead knowingly. "You're usually not so guarded in our link, Bakura . . . what are you trying to hide?" Bakura snarled at him, but he stared back blandly, refusing to back down. He was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or the other. If it was what he suspected was going on, he would be relieved and more than a little overjoyed. But if his dark was simply playing another one of his sadistic games, he'd best nip it in the bud before anyone got hurt. He wouldn't stand for his dark to hurt anymore of his friends just because he was bored.

Bakura was currently debating on whether to strangle his hikari for being too damn smart, or for just coming out and telling him. Strangling him was tempting enough . . . what was surprising was that he actually did want to tell Ryou. He obviously wasn't having any luck sorting the whole mess out on his own. But that wasn't going to happen . . . there was no way he would give that kind of power over him to his light. So he settled for growling at the smaller youth before stalking back to his den. Ryou, however, had not quite finished with him.

"There's a dance at school tomorrow," he called. "You're playing chaperone." There was no answer from the departing thief, which Ryou figured might just be for the better. He'd pushed his luck with his dark enough for one day.

----------------------------

Yami awoke slowly the following morning, the seventeenth of December, with a feeling much akin to dread. The last few days had not been easy on him, and he wasn't looking forward to any more incidents between himself and the Tomb Robber. If he could just simply avoid the thief, maybe this strange feeling would pass. At least, he hoped it would.

His own mixed feelings on the whole mess weren't helping him clear this entire dilemma up. He wanted to see the Tomb Robber . . . actually, he wanted more than just to see the former thief, but he wasn't quite willing to admit to that just yet.

When had he stopped hating Bakura? When had the man stopped being an enemy and started to become something so much closer than a friend? It was troubling him greatly, and he knew that somewhere deep within him, he was welcoming this change between the two of them.

At least he and Yugi were back on track to mending their relationship. They had spent all of the previous night talking and cuddling on the couch, relaxed completely in each other's presence for the first time in what felt like ages. Yugi had asked him to chaperone the dance this evening at the school, and he'd agreed happily . . . anything to get him out of the house and away from his own thoughts. The store would be busy again today, so he hoped he wouldn't have time to think about yesterday and the startling kiss that he was still thinking about.

Something in that kiss had been different . . . when Bakura had kissed him the day before, it had been almost mocking, and strangely gentle. Yesterdays kiss had been nothing of the sort . . . it had been demanding and possessive, and that stuck with him more than anything. It couldn't be possible that Bakura was developing feelings for him . . . could it? But if that wasn't it, than what had prompted that strange event yesterday? He'd have been willing to say the thief was jealous, but of what?

Shaking his head, he arose from bed to get dressed and ready for the day. Yugi had finals, and he had a store to run . . . the rest of the world was waiting for them, so these little issues would simply have to be set aside. He only wished it was easier to do.

----------------------------

Yami stood against the wall, lounging absently in the shadows as he watched the young people who attended the same school as his aibou dance and socialize. He was glad that he had dressed up . . . although Yugi had said it was casual, because of his being a chaperone, he'd still thought he should look his best, and looking around at the other chaperone's he was glad he had. The black dress slacks hung just right on his lean legs, the black dress shirt clung enticingly in all the right places, and he was aware of all of that, although it didn't really concern him one way or the other. As long as he was comfortable, he couldn't care less what he looked like. He'd even forgone the belts and the choker that had become habitual for him to wear, although he'd refused to put on a tie. Whoever had come up with that particular torture device should have worked for him back in Egypt.

He was also well aware of the covert glances and downright stares he was receiving, but they didn't bother him. Let them look . . . he simply wasn't interested. Besides, who would understand his ties with Yugi, and his origins, outside of the close circle of friends he and his aibou had chosen? The commotion when he had walked in with Yugi had been hilarious, to say the least, and he was sure Yugi had fielded about a dozen questions already about who he was and where he came from. He had felt the slight consternation of his aibou when the first question was asked, and had reminded Yugi of the cover story they had come up with if anyone asked.

It was lucky that they looked so much alike . . . it made the claim that they were brother's all the more realistic. The story was that Yami was his older brother, who had been raised in Egypt with friends of the family. No one bothered asking WHY Yami had been raised in Egypt . . . mostly because it was such a weird circumstance that they all assumed it had to be a painful reason, so they left it alone. That was just fine with Yami . . . he still hadn't come up with a reason for that either.

He had been amused by the swarm of girl's Yugi had attracted, although his aibou had been somewhat distraught. Since Yugi's 'fame' as a duelist, he picked up many admirers. He wasn't comfortable with that, because he was sure most of them were just there for the fame of being his 'friend'. But it made him feel somewhat special all the same, which as far as Yami was concerned was all for the better. Yugi needed more people, and as long as he had his true friends, it didn't matter who came and went in his social life.

A second commotion by the door drew his attention, and crimson eyes widened as he spied the head of snow white hair over the crowd. He hadn't known the Tomb Robber was going to be here as well . . . although he should have guessed it, he supposed. After all, Ryou would need a chaperone, right? Refusing to acknowledge the strange flutter in his stomach at Bakura's arrival, he turned his eyes back to the dance floor, attempting to ignore the sensation that he was being looked at.

Bakura found Yami almost immediately as he looked around the gymnasium in which the dance was being held. Not surprisingly, the Pharaoh was in the shadows, watching over his aibou. Why a man as good looking as he was hid in the shadows . . . he froze that thought before it went any further. He was NOT going to dwell on that tonight . . . he'd spent all night and this whole day dwelling on that kind of thing, and frankly he was sick of it, because he still hadn't made any headway in understanding it.

He smoothed his hands over his black jeans, tugging on the tie Ryou had made him wear over his deep violet silk shirt absently. Whoever had invented the damn things should have spent an eternity in the Shadow Realm, as far as he was concerned.

Yugi came up to them, smiling as he greeted Ryou before their other friends surrounded his hikari and the Pharaoh's. Growling under his breath, he made his way into his own dark corner, glad to be out of the direct line of sight of Yami.

Yami, on the other hand, was less than enthused with his current predicament. It seemed that a couple of the other chaperones . . . both ladies, and apparently both single . . . had decided he looked lonely and had come over to entreat him to join them. As much as Yami liked to remain polite, it was beginning to wear thin.

"Oh please, you simply must come join us!" one woman gushed, laying a hand on his arm. Yami was hard pressed not to shrug it off. "Just because we're chaperones doesn't mean we can't have a good time as well." She smiled saucily at him. "How old are you? You can't be much over twenty three . . ."

Smiling slightly, Yami shook his head. He wondered what she would say if he told her he was over five thousand years old . . . perhaps that would get her to leave him alone? He sighed as the other woman joined in with her own entreaties for him to join them, and slowly they began to gently drag him out of his corner.

Aibou . . . I could use some help here . . . he called desperately.

I can't get to you, Yami . . . Came the reply. I'm stuck in traffic. Sparing a glance towards where Yugi was, Yami could see the truth of that statement. Yugi was literally surrounded on all sides, unable to move much from his current position. Unless he wanted to resort to being rude, he was going to get stuck being sociable.

Bakura watched it all with a slight smirk, wondering how the mighty Pharaoh was going to get himself out of this one. He was trying to ignore the anger burning within him, the possessiveness that was once again rearing its annoying head at the thought that anyone dare touch Yami. Shaking his head, he wondered again what in the world had gotten into him . . . but he was still moving before he'd finished that thought, making his way through the crowded dance floor to Yami's side.

Yami sensed his approach, and inwardly he wasn't sure whether he dreaded it or welcomed it. Finally, he decided that if it got him away from the two harpies clinging to him, he would put up with just about anything . . . including his own turbulent emotions.

"Yami . . ." Bakura growled as he finally arrived, laying a pale hand on the black satin-covered shoulder. "Could I speak with you for a moment?" Yami nodded, trying not to sigh in relief even as his unwanted 'admirers' sighed in disappointment.

"If you will excuse me, ladies," he murmured, removing himself from their grasp gently. "After you, Bakura." He gestured for the thief to proceed him, which the white haired man did. He instantly regretted it . . . the blue jeans the Tomb Robber was wearing clung rather enticingly in all the right places. He shook his head, mentally smacking himself for falling back into that mental trap, and glued his eyes onto the back of Bakura's head as he followed him off the dance floor and into the shadows. "Thank you," he murmured as they came to a stand still. Bakura growled and shrugged it off, crossing his arms over his chest before leaning back against the wall.

"I didn't do it for you, Pharaoh," he snarled. "Ryou requested that I rescue you." It was a bald faced lie, and he knew it . . . just as he knew that his 'oh so casually nonchalant' pose was more of an effort to keep from grabbing the Pharaoh and picking up where they had left off yesterday. But he was hoping that Yami wouldn't pick up on any of that. It seemed his ruse worked, because Yami snorted wryly and turned his attention back to the floor without another word.

Red-brown eyes studied the lithe figure silently, enjoying the chance to do so with no one watching . . . especially Yami. He really was a beautiful specimen . . . desirable as well as respectable. He shook his head at that thought . . . since when did he actually RESPECT the Pharaoh!? This was getting out of hand – he was growing tired of these strange thoughts continually popping into his head. But still . . . he couldn't quite deny them, either.

Yami was all too aware of the thief standing behind him. The feeling of eyes upon his was hard to ignore, but he certainly wasn't going to give Bakura the satisfaction of knowing that he was succeeding in unnerving him. The thought popped into his head that he hoped the thief liked what he saw, but he banished it almost as soon as it manifested itself. He was relieved when Yugi finally got free of the crowd and made his way over to him.

"Yami? There's a chaperone dance coming up . . . will you dance with me?" the youth asked quietly. Yami smiled, ruffling the soft hair slightly before nodding his ascent. He would gladly dance with his aibou . . . and not simply because it got him away from the volatile Tomb Robber. Yugi was his light . . . the other half of his very soul. Simply being close to him was always a pleasure.

He allowed Yugi to pull him out onto the dance floor, sighing as the youth wrapped his slim arms around his waist before drawing his aibou closer, nuzzling into the soft hair with a sigh of contentment. He needed Yugi, more than Yugi had ever needed him. His little light was the very core of his existence, the bedrock of his sanity. Without Yugi, he would have been lost, and he knew it. He'd learned that lesson in America, and it was one he never intended to forget ever again.

Crimson eyes flickered to the side, and widened slightly in surprise as he spied Ryou and his yami dancing together nearby. The tender way Bakura held the smaller youth was astounding . . . he wouldn't have thought the thief had a single gentle bone in his body. That thought brought back the memory of the gentle kiss they had shared on the day he'd spent over at Ryou's house, watching over the sick thief, and he flushed slightly before burying his face back into his aibou's hair. That was NOT something he wanted to be thinking about right now.

Yami? Yugi whispered into their link. Are you okay? Cursing himself for not being more attentive to what the link was allowing to pass through to his aibou, he quickly tried to right himself.

Yes, aibou . . . merely thinking, is all, he replied. Why do you ask?

You felt . . . confused, Yugi said softly. Does it . . . have anything to do with what's been happening between you and Bakura? Yami nearly stopped dancing right then and there, surprise shooting through him at the evidence that Yugi had noticed his current preoccupation. I'm not blind, you know, his little one murmured, sounding rather annoyed. It's pretty obvious that something has been going on . . . do you want to talk about it? The former Pharaoh smiled slightly.

It is nothing, my hikari, he said after a moment. Merely a passing thought that has caught me by surprise. Nothing to be worried about. He sensed Yugi's disbelief at the statement, but was relieved when his little light didn't press the issue. He simply didn't want to talk about it right now . . . and especially not to his innocent aibou. Perhaps because he was still hoping it was just a passing whim.

Bakura was not any better off. With Ryou in his arms, dancing gently to the soft music, he couldn't help wishing that Yugi and he could switch places . . . which disgusted him to no end. What in all the worlds was he thinking?! The only dance he wanted to be engaged in with Yami was the killing dance . . . but the minute that thought crossed his mind, he knew it was a lie. He wanted quite a few different dances with Yami . . . not the least of which was one as old as time itself. To feel that lithe body under his, above his, against his – that would be heaven.

The dance ended, and Yami smiled down into laughing amethyst eyes as Yugi stepped back a bit, slightly flushed and absolutely adorable. The silent, joyful moment was abruptly shattered by the arrival of their friends, who surrounded them.

"Yami . . . can I get the next dance?" Tea asked. Yami smiled and nodded, albeit reluctantly. Crimson eyes watched Bakura leave the dance floor with something akin to longing before the next song started, and he pulled Tea into his arms stiffly, trying to maintain distance between their bodies . . . a distance that Tea seemed determined to narrow. He sighed mentally, and finally gave up. To continue trying to fight to keep her at a distance would be rude, and she was a friend after all. Someday, he would have to talk to her about the crush that she seemed to have on him. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he simply wasn't interested.

He was blissfully unaware of the narrowed blood-tinted chocolate eyes that stared at him unerringly from the shadows not so far away. Bakura growled low in his throat, watching as Tea finally succeeded in pressing tightly against the Pharaoh's slim form, and resisted the urge to stalk onto the floor and rip her away . . . and preferably into a million tiny pieces while he was at it.

A gentle touch on his arm startled him, and he turned with a snarl that quickly died as he came face to face with his hikari.

"You're falling in love with him, aren't you?" Ryou asked quietly. "That's what this problem is . . . you're falling in love with him, and you don't like it one bit." Bakura stomped on the urge to throttle his little light right then, settling on completely refuting that statement.

"It would be a cold day in Egypt before I fell in love with that pompous ass," he snapped. "He's arrogant, conceited, and completely intolerable, not to mention smug and annoying. Me, in love with him? Don't be foolish Ryou . . . you've been reading too many of those romance stories you enjoy so much." He turned away abruptly, therefore not seeing the slight grin that crossed the youth's features before the boy walked away, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

Ryou wasn't fooled by his dark's little rant for one minute. Bakura was beginning to care about the Pharaoh . . . and it explained a lot of what had been happening lately. Of course his yami would try to deny feeling anything towards Yami . . . it would ruin his image of himself to admit otherwise. But like it or not, Bakura was starting to feel something other than hatred towards the former Pharoah. Problem was, what could he and Yugi do to help things along? He agreed with Yugi thoroughly . . . their dark's needed someone else in their lives besides their hikari's. And the only people who had a chance at understanding them completely was each other.

The dance with Tea finally ended, and Yami tried not to breathe a sigh of relief as she thanked him and headed off into the crowd. She was a great girl, and altogether pleasant to be around when she wasn't on one of her friendship tirades, but he simply wasn't interested in her. He turned to go . . . and smiled as he spied Bakura. It wasn't the sight of the thief himself that amused him, however. It was what Bakura was unknowingly standing under.

After having been literally put through the ringer by the arrogant thief, suddenly Yami wanted some revenge . . . a whole lot of it, in fact. It wasn't right that he be the only one squirming in this little game, after all. He headed for the white-haired man, his eyes locked on the sprig of green plant with white berries that hung just out of reach over the Tomb Robber's head.

Bakura sensed Yami's approach, one eyebrow rising toward his hairline in curiosity at the suddenly serious, yet slightly devious, air the Pharaoh was carrying. What in the world was the man up to? He stiffened as Yami stepped well within his personal space, glaring at the crimson eyed man challengingly as the lithe figure stepped even closer.

"Do you realize that you're standing underneath a sprig of mistletoe, thief?" he asked quietly, his voice taking on the smoky qualities of a more sensual and dangerous nature. "Has no one told you what that means in this modern age?"

Disturbed by Yami's sudden nearness, and his body's own strange reactions to that closeness, he settled for being an asshole, trying to cover up his preoccupation with anger.

"Why don't you tell me, Pharaoh, since you know so much," he snapped. His heart jumped when Yami simply smirked, a teasing, seductive grin flitting across the aquiline features before he moved closer, almost leaning into the Tomb Robber's suddenly tense frame.

"To stand under the mistletoe in this time means you want to be kissed, thief," he whispered, his breath brushing over the white haired thief's lips teasingly. "Is that what you want?"

Bakura couldn't force his voice past the sudden lump in his throat, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he stared into the crimson eyes mere inches from his own red-tinted gaze. The thought that Yami was playing with him crossed his mind, but he couldn't move to act on that thought, mesmerized by the crimson depths as a rabbit before a cobra. 'This is what you get by playing with dynamite,' he thought absently. 'It blows up on you.'

Yami was thoroughly enjoying the moment. For once, he was on the offensive, and Bakura was the one left speechless. That was definitely a new development – the sharp tongued thief left with nothing to say. But he paused in his plans as he stared into the wide reddish brown eyes, seeing something in them that surprised him. There was a startling vulnerability there, a thing he had never dreamed he would associate with the thief, and suddenly he simply couldn't continue this game. Not if it would hurt the white haired man.

That thought alone finally cleared the entire mess in his head. His fears were true . . . the man who had once been his most hated enemy was now the person he had come to love. No matter what Bakura had done over the past two days . . . whatever game he had been playing that had made the thief kiss him . . . he couldn't, and wouldn't, do the same.

"Bakura . . ." he whispered, unconsciously leaning closer, his mouth resting near the pale shell of one ear, feeling the soft silk of the Tomb Robber's hair caress his cheek. "No matter what you may think of me . . . times have changed. What lies between us is in the past . . . what lies before us is up to you and I. But I will not play games with you. What you want, you must come and ask for, when you decide what exactly that is." He sighed, pulling away slowly to gaze into the thief's eyes once again, memorizing the vulnerability he saw there before turning and stalking away.

The Tomb Robber watched him go, disbelief etching his features before he saw Ryou staring at him. Snorting derisively, he straightened and turned away, stalking out of his hikari's line of sight, feeling the turmoil in his soul at Yami's strange actions, and words. Unfortunately, the words were not easy to forget, and he had the sinking feeling that he was going to be mulling them over in his head for another sleepless night.

Ryou and Yugi had watched the entire exchange. Now, they shared a puzzled glance, wondering what had just occurred. They moved out onto the dance floor together in mutual agreement that it would be the best place to talk without attracting either dark's unwanted attention.

"What do you think that was about?" Ryou asked quietly. Yugi shrugged slightly, allowing the taller boy to take the lead as he thought.

"I don't know . . . for a minute there, Yami's emotions were pretty clear, then there was this strange spike and he suddenly walked away. What about Bakura?" Ryou shook his head, frowning slightly.

"He's shielding too tightly," the young Brit murmured. "I can't get a thing from the link."

Something significant had just happened, of that they were both sure. Now they only had to figure out what, and how to use it to get their dark's together.


	5. On The Fifth Day of Christmas Five Thou...

Disclaimer – Nope, don't own them. Probably never will, unless I suddenly gain millions of dollars.

Author's Notes – Another day, another chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 5 – On the Fifth Day of Christmas – Five Thousand Years

Bakura growled, staring up at the ceiling to his bedroom as his mind replayed Yami's words over and over again in his mind. He'd been right about the sleeplessness . . . the Pharaoh's actions and words had left him to think, unable to sleep as his mind puzzled over them.

Something had changed, he simply couldn't figure out exactly what. At first, Yami's intentions had seemed perfectly clear . . . but then he'd seen something and whatever it had been, he'd suddenly changed his intentions completely.

And then there was his light, who had seen the exchange as well. Ryou'd been smart enough not to ask about it . . . probably for the best, because he wouldn't have known what to tell the youth anyway.

What had Yami meant by what he wanted? What DID he want? Sighing, he tucked his hands under his head, crossing his legs at the ankles as he lounged on his bed, replaying the entire incident and his strange reactions to it in his head. He hated introspection . . . it always brought up too many questions without answers. But here he was, stuck doing that very thing, and of course it was all the Pharaoh's fault.

What did he want from Yami? What was it about the Pharaoh that was throwing him off like this? Yes, he was attractive and desirable . . . but physical lust just didn't seem to be the only problem anymore. Admittedly, it was the one he was most familiar with, but that reason alone didn't begin to cover everything that was going on at the moment.

This all started when he got stuck up in that tree . . . maybe his illness had affected his mind somehow? Of course, that little misadventure had resulted in the first time he and Yami had EVER touched each other . . . could that have had something to do with it? Had that simple touch somehow completely undone every bit of hatred he'd harbored for the man?

"Ridiculous," he grumbled, turning over onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow. One little accidental touch didn't have the power to do this . . . did it? Growling, he shoved his head under his pillow, and attempted to use the overstuffed item to drown out the sound of his own whirling thoughts.

----------------------------

"Yami?" Yugi called up the stairs, wondering where his dark was. It wasn't like Yami to sleep so late, even on a Saturday. They hadn't been up late last night . . . in fact, Yami had gone to bed the minute they'd gotten home. So why hadn't his other emerged from his room yet?

He heard footsteps, and smiled slightly as his dark appeared at the top of the stairs, before the amethyst eyes filled with concern. Yami looked like he'd been through hell . . . the crimson eyes were marred by deep shadows under them. If he'd had to guess at their cause, he would have said that Yami hadn't gotten much in the way of sleep last night.

"Yes, aibou?" the tenor voice called down hoarsely, breaking into his thoughts.

"Yami, are you okay?" he asked, advancing up the stairs until he stood on the step just below his dark. "You look like death warmed over." Yami smiled slightly at that comment, shaking his head slowly.

"I'm fine, Yugi," he replied quietly. "Merely tired." Yugi wasn't willing to let it rest at that, however.

"Something kept you up all night," he said, taking the final step so that he could stand on equal ground with the former Pharaoh. "You want to talk about it?" He saw the crimson eyes waver, and decided that maybe pressing the issue now would be the best time to get his dark to talk. "It's about you and Bakura, isn't it? Whatever happened between the two of you underneath that mistletoe last night is bothering you."

He was relieved when Yami sighed and sank down to sit on the step, eyes staring down the narrow stairway as he thought. He sat down beside the taller man quietly, silently waiting for his dark to begin speaking, and wondering exactly what was on his best friend's mind.

"Five thousand years . . ." he murmured finally. "Bakura and I have known each other for five thousand years . . . and we've hated each other the entire time. We've been enemies for that long, aibou. Yet now . . . I find I can no longer hate him." He shifted uneasily before turning to look into the concerned amethyst eyes. "I think . . . perhaps that I am in love with our Tomb Robber," he whispered. He waited for Yugi's stunned denial, and was surprised when the smaller boy chuckled and smiled.

"We thought so," he said, nodding sagely. "But if that's the case, then what is the problem? Worried that he doesn't return the sentiment?"

"I know he doesn't, aibou," Yami murmured after a moment, still stunned at his lighter self's easy acceptance of the situation. "How could he? You know as well as I do that Bakura isn't capable of the softer emotions." The vulnerability he'd seen in the Tomb Robber's eyes the night before rose to the surface of his thoughts, but he shoved it aside. He'd merely caught the thief by surprise . . . he wouldn't allow himself to read further into it than that.

"Well, he's better with Ryou," Yugi pointed out. "Maybe he's changed, Yami." Yami sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Toward me? I highly doubt it, young one. He is merely playing one of his games . . . of that I am sure. It is one that I have no wish to play, but that is how Bakura is." He stood stiffly, crimson eyes dark, before looking down at Yugi calmly. "I can hope this is no more than a passing fancy, Yugi," he whispered. "Otherwise . . . I have lost my heart to someone who does not want it." Turning, he made his way back to his bedroom, leaving Yugi to stare after him sadly.

"Oh Yami . . ." he said quietly, his heart breaking for his dark. There had to be something he could do . . . but what that might be, he didn't know.

----------------------------

Ryou left the house quietly, glad to be getting away from his moody dark for at least a small amount of time. The fact that Bakura was hitting the liquor cabinet did not sit well with him. When his yami was drunk, he didn't get like normal people . . . he became dangerous, far more dangerous than he usually was. He didn't know what it was about alcohol that made Bakura prone to violence, but whenever his dark got like this, he felt it prudent to leave. Like now.

But where could he go? It was a Saturday . . . school was on vacation, and he really didn't want to head for Kaiba Land. Nor did he really want to be alone right now. An idea popped into his head, and he smiled before heading for the Turtle Game Shop, sure that he would find Yugi behind the counter.

He was relieved to discover he'd been right when he stepped through the glass door to find the diminutive duelist seated on a stool behind the counter.

"Ryou!" Yugi called out, waving to him as he rang up a customer's purchase. "What are you doing here?" The white haired boy smiled and shook his head, going to lean against the counter.

"Bakura's drinking," he murmured. He held up his hand as Yugi went to speak. "I'm fine, Yugi. He didn't do anything to me. He's pretty much locked himself into his room. I don't know what's wrong with him . . . whatever it is, it's serious."

"Yami's pretty much the same way," Yugi replied quietly, causing the chocolate eyes to meet his in shock. "He's been in his room all morning . . . I couldn't even get him to come down for breakfast." He paused before continuing. As much as he respected Yami's privacy, this did have to do with Ryou's yami, which meant Ryou was just as involved as he was. "Ryou . . . Yami's in love with Bakura."

Ryou choked slightly, startled at the sudden announcement before staring at Yugi in shock. The Pharaoh was actually in love with the Tomb Robber? Yes, they'd suspected it, but to hear it confirmed so bluntly was astonishing.

"Are you . . . are you sure?" he asked quietly. Yugi nodded slightly, the amethyst eyes serious.

"He told me, Ryou," Yugi said. "But . . . he's hoping that it'll pass. He doesn't think Bakura could possibly return the feelings." He looked at Ryou steadily. "What do you think? Could your yami . . . be in love with mine?" Ryou looked perplexed, settling back against the glass counter as he thought this strange turn of events out. It would make some sense, with the way Bakura was acting right now. Hell, it had taken the former thief forever to simply come out and admit that he actually LIKED his hikari, at least a little. It would be tearing him apart to try and discover what was going on between him and the Pharaoh . . . especially when he was still hell bent on the belief that he hated the man.

This was definitely an interesting development. An idea came to mind, but he wasn't sure how safe it was. With Bakura getting drunk, he was bound to be more talkative . . . if they sent Yami over there on some pretext, would the thief spill the beans? It was an idea that had more than just a little merit, but there was also danger there. Bakura became more prone to violence when he was drunk, as if he wasn't prone to it enough as it was. If he was still confused about his feelings on Yami, would he attack the former Pharaoh?

"I don't know, Yugi," Ryou said finally. "If Bakura were any other person, I'd say it was obvious that he was in love with Yami . . . but this is a five thousand year old thief we're talking about. Yami's been his mortal enemy for that entire length of time. For him to go from hating him that passionately to loving him just seems like quite a jump." He shrugged slightly, shaking his head until his white bangs fell in front of his eyes. "It seems a bit far fetched when you look at it that way, but it's still the only thing I can think of that would have my dark so off-balance right now."

Unbeknownst to either boy, a certain former Pharaoh was lingering in the doorway behind the curtain that separated the shop from the rest of the house. He stepped away as Ryou fell silent, returning slowly to his room, deep in thought. That Yugi had told Ryou about his confession did not bother him . . . he trusted the white haired hikari almost as much as he trusted Yugi.

Ryou had a point that he wasn't happy with admitting the truth of. It was quite a jump for them to have gone from hating each other to loving each other after five thousand years. For him, it was merely a slight jump . . . he'd always been the more passionate individual. But for Bakura, it would be a flying leap into a bottomless pit. Was he being a fool to hope that someday the Tomb Robber might come to him?

Perhaps he should take the first step after all . . .

----------------------------

Bakura poured himself another shot of vanilla vodka and downed it, enjoying the false warmth it gave him as he stared absently at the far wall of his bedroom. When one couldn't make something work out sober, drinking always seemed to untie the mental knots. And he had a lot of them right now, although they were slowly loosening to the point where he could think again.

He knew Ryou had fled the house. In a way, he was glad . . . without the boy there to disturb him, maybe he had a chance of straightening himself out.

His thoughts returned to the Pharaoh, and he smiled slightly as he pictured the man easily in his head. He was such a self-confident bastard, and beautiful too. He was always a challenge, and never boring to play with, even after five thousand years. Admittedly, winning against him was a hopeless proposition, but that just made it all the more interesting to try.

There were, of course, the frequent trips to the Shadow Realm he'd undergone due to the Pharaoh. Easy as it was to get out of there for him, they had still been annoying. Yet he couldn't even summon enough hatred for those against the man. Not that he was really trying . . . for the moment, he'd given up trying to get himself back to the way he had been. Pale fingers drummed absently on one jean clad thigh as he tilted his head back, raising his gaze to the ceiling.

So, what exactly was it that he felt towards the Pharaoh now? What was it about Yami that had him thinking this deeply? Was it his insistence on being true to one's self that had caused this discomforting introspection? Or was it something more, some deeply hidden desire to be better than he was for that asshole?

A knock on the front door upstairs brought him out of his thoughts with a growl, and he glared in the general direction of the annoyance as it came again. Who the hell could that be? If it was one of the twits Ryou insisted on hanging out with, there was going to be bloodshed. He didn't feel like dealing with their sappy bullshit today at all.

Stalking up the stairs, he made his way to the front door, snarling when the knock came again. After three such unanswered summons, they should have gotten the hint! Red-brown eyes narrowed angrily as he reached for the door knob, throwing it open in order to deliver a scathing comment that would send them packing . . . and froze in stunned disbelief when he met crimson eyes in an altogether too familiar face, one that had been haunting his thoughts far too often of late.

"Bakura," Yami murmured, bowing his head slightly to hide the smile at the thief's flabbergasted features. "May I come in?" Bakura nodded dumbly, stepping back to allow the Pharaoh to pass and trying to resist the urge to reach out and feel if he was really there. What in the nine hells would have brought the Pharaoh here now, of all times?

He followed the lithe, black leather-clad figure into the living room, watching as Yami shed the black leather jacket to reveal the form-fitting, buckled black leather shirt he was so fond of wearing. It was almost enough to make one drool . . . if one was inclined to such things. Bakura was not usually, but at the moment he had the urge to do so anyway.

He froze beside the door when Yami turned to face him, a slight smile flickering across the aquiline features before the crimson eyes grew serious.

"You're proving to be even more trouble to me now than you ever were in the past, you know," he murmured, stalking slowly across the beige carpet. Bakura was hard pressed to keep his eyes on Yami's . . . the sway in those hips as the Pharaoh advanced on him had rather evil thoughts flickering through his head at the moment. Those thoughts slithered to an abrupt halt when Yami stepped into him, pressing his leather clad form against his already over sensitized body until his back came up against the wall, effectively trapping him between the hard wood surface and the lean musculature hidden under the black leather. "My thoughts seem to be centering more and more around you since that day in the park, and I grow tired of it." He leaned closer, his breath whispering across the slightly parted lips as Bakura panted, his body growing hard at the nearness of its desire. "What have you done to me?" he whispered.

"I could ask the same of you," Bakura snarled, but his voice lacked the conviction it needed, especially when he shivered as Yami moved a knee in between his legs, the leather clad upper thigh caressing the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. He jerked slightly when that same thigh moved, brushing the rough fabric over his erection even harder as Yami braced a hand on either side of his head. "What are you doing?" he whispered, almost afraid to ask and hoping the answer was what he was thinking it would be.

"Ending our torment," Yami murmured, just before he took the pale lips in a hungry kiss. Bakura moaned, opening his mouth to the wet invasion helplessly, the almost empty bottle of vodka falling from numb fingers as Yami tasted him.

Yami hummed in approval as he felt the thief's silent acquiescence, running his tongue over Bakura's bottom lip gently before delving deeper into the warm cavern of his mouth to sample his taste again. He murmured his approval when pale fingers entwined into his hair, pulling his closer as the thief began to participate in the kiss, dueling for dominance playfully as Yami pressed into him, wanting to feel every inch of his former enemy's body against his own.

Leaving the parted, bruised lips, he brushed feather light kisses and gentle nips down the side of one jaw, pausing to suckle at the pulse beating wildly at the base of the pale throat before nipping at one collar bone as his fingers began to undue the buttons of the white silk shirt the thief was wearing. He'd lost track of why he had really come over here . . . simply talking with the thief wasn't going to be enough. He trailed kisses over the exposed skin as he continued downwards, adroitly undoing the buttons as he went and following with soft lips and warm licks to the delectable flesh.

Bakura growled slightly when Yami stopped at the edge of his jeans and began to work his way back up, slight tremors running through him as golden fingers ghosted over his flesh with just enough weight behind them to make him burn for more. Whatever Yami was doing, it was driving him nuts, and going far too slowly for his tastes. Reaching downwards, he wrapped his fingers around one buckle and tugged abruptly, bringing the former spirit back up to face him.

"Stop . . . toying . . . with me," he snarled, pulling that leather clad frame into him and grinding himself into it. He smiled in satisfaction as Yami moaned, the tri-colored head falling backwards and giving Bakura the perfect expanse of his golden skinned neck upon which to feast. The thief wasted no time in taking that offered flesh, ravaging it with lips and teeth as the Pharaoh bucked against him, bringing their manhood's into abrupt, delightful contact.

Growling, Bakura forced the lithe figure backwards until they ended up sprawled upon the couch, hands wandering everywhere as they divested each other of their shirts, both growing tired of the teasing. Afterwards, Bakura sat back for a moment to admire the golden god beneath him before leaning down to take one dusky nipple between his teeth, teasing it to hardness quickly before moving to do the same to the other.

Yami moaned, unable to force his body into stillness as the thief teased him. He gasped, crimson eyes shooting open wide as one pale hand cupped him, rubbing him teasingly as the white-haired head drifted with painful slowness down his exposed torso, stopping to torment and tease various areas with nips and licks and kisses.

"Bakura . . ." he moaned, clenching his hands into fists as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. The thief chuckled against his flesh, sending a violent shiver through his muscles as the red-brown eyes rose to gaze into slowly hazing crimson, the depths swirling with hunger.

"Give in, Pharaoh," the pale man whispered, moving upwards to lick at the parted lips teasingly as Yami panted beneath him. "This situation is now officially out of your control." Thoughts of what he was doing and who it was with had long ago been buried beneath the driving need to claim the Pharaoh as his own, and he was no longer concerned with exactly why he needed this man. So much for five thousand years of hatred . . . that particular emotion was nowhere to be found as he gazed down at his soon to be lover.

"If you don't get a move on, you're not going to be in control either," Yami growled, yanking him downward and taking possession of his lips once again. They battled for dominance of the kiss, bodies pressing against each other hungrily, the heated friction almost too much to take.

Yami moaned into the invasion, arching upward in a desperate attempt to get closer to the pale haired fiend. His entire body felt like it was on fire and Bakura was only adding more fuel to the consuming flames. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't simple lust . . . if that had been the case, he would have felt just about heavenly right about now, but there was an added facet to the whole mess that made him want more than just the physical intimacy. He wanted Bakura's heart . . . and for once, he didn't want it on a platter.

'Ra help me,' he thought absently, crimson eyes staring up at the ceiling in delicious agony as he felt pale fingers undo the buckle to one of his belts. 'I really have fallen in love with him.'

The sudden opening of the front door brought a screeching halt to anything that could have happened between them at that moment.

"Bakura?" Ryou called. "Are you still here? You're not drunk yet, are you?" Grumbling under his breath, the thief backed off of Yami slowly, shrugging into his shirt with a violent growl before stalking towards the front door, intent on getting rid of his hikari as quickly as possible.

Yami watched him go sadly, and shook his head before rising to his feet and gathering his discarded clothing. He wasn't going to get answers this way . . . and now that Bakura was out of the room, he was thinking clearly again. Yes, apparently the thief desired him. But that didn't make him feel any better. He wanted more . . . and this was not the way to get it. Shrugging into his shirt, glad that he hadn't bothered to take off his boots, he gathered his jacket and exited by window, leaving his heart behind him. He had no choice . . . but until he knew exactly what the thief's feelings were on this, he wasn't willing to give him anything else to use against him. It would hurt too much otherwise. Shoving his arms into his jacket outside and zipping it, he left the house behind, despair threatening to pull him under. Feeling his deck in his jacket pocket, he decided to go to Kaiba Land to blow off some steam . . . and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Behind him, at the front door, Ryou was stunned to see a very disheveled and altogether flustered dark stalking towards him.

"I was getting there," the thief snapped, stopping in front of his hikari and crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were going out."

"I am," Ryou murmured, still trying to puzzle out exactly what was going. He must have interrupted something more serious than mere drinking for his dark to be this annoyed . . . but what? "I came to get my duel deck . . . Yugi and I are going to head over to Kaiba Land with Yami. Yugi says he's been down lately . . . we're hoping to cheer him up."

One white eyebrow arched curiously at the mention of Yami. Did the hikari's not know that Yami was over here, currently draped over the couch? Surprising . . . the Pharaoh was usually very conscientious about keeping his little light informed on his whereabouts. Concentrating, he summoned Ryou's deck through the Ring, handing it to his lighter half. The last thing he wanted right now was Ryou having to walk through the living room.

"Have fun," he growled, and practically shoved the young boy out the door, smirking as he turned the lock and headed back for the living room. He froze in the doorway as he came back to a very empty room, eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the open window across the way. Where the hell had the Pharaoh gone?

He stalked over to the window, not surprised to find Yami's footprints in the snow underneath. The white-haired head tilted to one side, examining the marks dangerously before he turned and stalked back into the room, buttoning up his shirt before grabbing his black trench and his boots and slipping out the window as well.

No way in hell was he going to let the Pharaoh get away from finishing what they had started. Why he was so anxious to finish this was beyond him, but he wanted that body with an ache that made his teeth hum. He'd think about the strange pain that was welling up within him at Yami's departure later . . . especially since it was centered around his heart.

----------------------------

Kaiba Land was bustling with young kids, most of whom had probably been dropped off here while their parents tended to the rest of their Christmas shopping. Yami entered the dueling area slowly, shrugging out of his leather jacket and putting his deck in it's container at his hip before strolling over to a booth in the back corner and sinking into it.

Now that he was here, he really wasn't up to dueling. Rather, all he wanted to do was think. Having disserted the thief the way he had, he was left feeling decidedly unsatisfied, and somehow incomplete. Even knowing what he did about his feelings towards the Tomb Robber was little comfort . . . he knew those feelings could never be returned.

Sighing, he hid his face in his hands, shoulders sagging wearily beneath the weight of his heart. Why, of all people, had he fallen in love with a man who could never love him in return? The feel of the thief's lean body pressed against his haunted him, as did the taste of his lips. He'd gone and fallen in love with a demon, and there was no way of reclaiming that portion of himself that he'd lost.

"Yugi," a voice growled, and Yami rolled his eyes before looking up to meet the sapphire gaze of the one person he really did NOT want to see right now.

"I'm not Yugi, Kaiba," he said, glaring up at the millionaire. "I would have thought you would have figured that out by now, considering how intelligent you usually are." He saw the blue eyes narrow, the weight behind them only growing as the taller man examined him minutely before they widened imperceptibly.

"You're not Yugi . . ." Seto murmured. "But . . . I know you." Crimson eyes closed wearily, the tri-colored hair waving slightly as Yami shook his head in disbelief.

"We've dueled many times, Kaiba," he replied. "You know who I am . . . you simply refuse to believe what Ishizu told you." He rose slowly, stepping out from behind the table as Kaiba backed up unconsciously before catching himself and standing his ground, angry at his lapse.

"Ishizu was nothing more than a two-bit charlatan," the man growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "What she told me means nothing, because it was all Egyptian hocus pocus and fairytales. Who are you?"

"Five thousand years ago, I was a Pharaoh in Egypt," Yami said, tucking his hands into his pants pockets as he glared up at the CEO. "Now, I'm a spirit that's been reborn. You've dueled me before Kaiba, only you thought it was Yugi. He and I shared a body for a time . . . but now I am my own person."

"Impossible . . ." Kaiba growled, but he didn't sound nearly as sure as he wanted to. Yami was not in the mood for this . . . first he'd fallen in love with his enemy, and now he had to deal with his greatest rival, who was a stubborn jackass. Could his day get any better?

"Believe it or not, as you wish, Seto Kaiba," he said wearily. "I couldn't care less at this point in time."

"Yami!" Crimson eyes turned, looking around the taller man and widening as he spied his aibou and young Ryou crossing the lobby towards him. Seto turned as well, a slight gasp escaping his lips as he spied the current Duel Monster's Champion and his companion. "There you are . . . you left the house rather suddenly . . ." He paused as it registered just who it was his dark was talking to. "Hello Kaiba," he murmured warily, amethyst eyes turning to gaze at his yami questioningly. Yami smiled and shook his head.

He still does not believe who I am, aibou, he murmured through their link. Stubborn, as always. He thought I was you at first. Yugi chuckled slightly, maneuvering around the tall millionaire to wrap an arm around his dark's waist, hugging him gently.

"Kaiba, this is my yami. He already knows you . . . far too well, in fact. I'm glad the two of you could finally meet face to face . . . maybe someday you'll be able to understand." Kaiba snorted before stalking off, leaving Ryou smiling after him and shaking his head before turning back to the 'twins'.

"The two of you together are awful," he murmured, his soft British accent laced with amusement. The chocolate eyes darkened considerably, and he reached up with pale fingers to brush over a bruise on the side of Yami's neck. The Pharaoh flinched away from the touch, crimson eyes widening as his own hand rose to brush over the sensitive spot. "Yami?"

The sudden attention Ryou was giving his dark caused Yugi to turn around to look up at him . . . and gave him the very same view. He reached up with one hand to pry Yami's away, tugging his dark downwards so he could get a closer look.

"Yami . . . Kaiba . . .?" he asked, horrified. Yami shook his head, straightening slowly before fingering the growing bruise on his neck consideringly.

"Not Kaiba, little one," he murmured. He glanced at Ryou, and suddenly the white haired youth understood.

"My yami," he said softly. "So . . . I did interrupt something when I went over there to retrieve my deck." Yugi gasped as the taller man flushed slightly, staring up at Yami in shock. "But if so . . . then why are you now here?" Yami sighed and sank back into the booth, the careful mask dropping and allowing the younger boys to see the hurt and confusion beneath.

"Your timely interruption allowed me to gather my rather scattered thoughts," Yami replied quietly. "I . . . I really have fallen in love with your yami, Ryou. But that is an emotion he can never return . . . and I will not simply use him, nor allow him to use me. I cannot." He sighed, shifting to sit with his legs dangling off the bench, staring out at the kaleidoscope of moving bodies as he spoke. "So I left . . . I came here hoping to straighten myself out by getting a few duels in, but once I got here I simply did not feel like it." He sat up suddenly as what felt like an approaching thunderstorm brushed over his skin, and crimson eyes widened as he spied a tall, white haired figure stalking through the crowded lobby towards the dueling arena.

Ryou sensed his yami at the same moment as the Pharaoh, and turned horrified eyes toward him before turning back to face Yami.

"You should get out of here," he whispered. "He's in a foul mood . . . I can feel it. Head back to the card shop . . . we'll tell him we haven't seen you." Yami nodded thankfully, sliding out of the booth with his jacket and hurrying to the far exit, making for the side entrance to Kaiba Land gratefully. He wasn't up to facing the Tomb Robber right now . . . not after what had nearly happened between them, with his emotions still in a complete knot over it.

He felt slightly guilty for leaving Yugi and Ryou to deal with it, but he was relieved and grateful all the same. Heading back to the Turtle Game Shop, he only hoped that he could get control over his emotions again before it was too late to turn back.


	6. On The Sixth Day of Christmas Six Plott...

Disclaimer – If I ever own them, every fangirl/guy out there will probably end up loving me or wanting to strangle me. But since I'm still a little no-name fanfiction writer, obviously I don't own them yet.

Author's Notes – My sincerest apologies for the lateness of this chapter/day. Unfortunately, when it comes to weekends my time on the computer is somewhat limited (husband) and I was unable to work on it. I will work on catching up today and tomorrow. Until then, however, here is day six . . . and more Bakura torture : ) ducks a blow from the Tomb Robber Yes, as you can tell, he's not happy with me. Good thing I'm just as sadistic as he is.

On with the story . . . and don't forget to leave me a review!

Chapter 6 - On the sixth day of Christmas – Six Plotting Friends

Another sleepless night of thinking and feeling later, Yami lay on his bed, staring out the window at the lightening sky. One hand absently caressed the mark Bakura had left on his neck, rubbing at it gently and wishing it was something more than just a testament to how out of control they had both been last evening.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side, fighting desperately to get his mind and body to relax and let him sleep. Somewhere in the house, Yugi was starting his day . . . but all he wanted to do right now was hide and forget the mess his heart had landed him in.

-----------------------------

Across town, Bakura was suffering from much the same problem. Music wasn't helping, and neither was drinking, although he'd gone through two more bottles of vodka and a bottle of tequila while he was at it.

All his thoughts centered on Yami, and what had almost happened between them the day before. He kept seeing that form beneath him, feeling that body pressed against his, and it was tormenting him more than he wanted to admit. Not simply physically, but mentally as well.

Then there was the strange pain in his chest where his heart would have been. The source of that pain, he suspected, was the fact that Yami had left before they could finish what they started. He'd wanted Yami . . . and not just physically, but emotionally as well. He could admit it now, even if it was only in the silence of his own mind. He was falling in love with the Pharaoh . . . if he hadn't already done so.

Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach, burying his head under his pillow. He had fallen in love with Yami, a man who he'd hated for nearly his entire existence. How had it developed to this?! What the hell was wrong with him?

For that matter, why was he even worrying about it? It wasn't like Yami was going to fall in love with him . . . hell, after everything he'd done to the Pharaoh, he was still surprised the man allowed him to live! There was movement upstairs, and Bakura hoped rather desperately that his young hikari would not come down to check on him. The last thing he need was to see Ryou right now . . . especially not after the spectacle he'd made of himself the night before.

He'd been desperate to find Yami, almost to the point of murdering the first person who got in his way. But he'd tracked the Pharaoh as far as Kaiba Land before losing him . . . and instead running straight into the hikari's. He was sure the boy's had covered for the Pharaoh, but he couldn't prove it, so he had returned home.

He loved Yami, and wanted to claim him so badly it hurt. But how was he supposed to go about doing that? There was the entire crux of his problem . . . and he couldn't think of a way to solve it.

Sometimes he really hated his reputation as a heartless bastard.

----------------------------

While the two former spirit's were coming to grips with their problems, six friends were gathering around a worn table in the Domino Coffee Shop.

Yugi looked around the table and smiled slightly at his friends. Duke, Tristan, Joey, Ryou, Tea . . . they were all here. Between the six of them, they had to be able to come up with ideas for getting the two yami's together. He was a little worried about Tea being here, but she was still a friend, and she had the right to know.

"Guys . . . Ryou and I need your help," he started. "You see . . . our yami's are in love and . . ."

"Yami's in love?" Tea asked, interrupting him. "With who?" He sighed, shaking his head before nodding to Ryou.

"Our yami's are in love with each other, Tea," the small Brit said quietly. "At least, we think they are. We know Yami is in love with Bakura . . . but of course my dark is being somewhat stubborn."

"Whoa . . . wait a minute," Tristan said, leaning forward on his elbows, dark eyes serious. "You mean to tell us that the Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber are . . . in love? With each other?" He glanced at Joey, who amber eyes were confused, and shook his head. "No way man . . . they've hated each other for five thousand years."

Yugi sighed, shifting slightly in his seat before launching into details about the happenings between the two former spirits over the last five days. Ryou interrupted every now and then with his own comments, and things he'd seen Bakura doing that were out of character for the former thief, and together they lay the entire puzzle before their friends. When they were finished, Joey whistled slightly, leaning back and running a hand through his perpetually disheveled blonde hair.

"Wow," he murmured. "Who woulda' thought?" He chuckled slightly, shaking his head in amusement before continuing. "I take it, by your telling us this that you're looking for some kind of help." Yugi nodded.

"We don't know what to do," he said. "I mean, Yami's told us that he loves Bakura, but you know the thief! He won't ever own up to something like that . . . not unless we nudge him in the right direction. But that's not something either Ryou or I can do. That's why we need you guys . . . we're at our wits end here."

Surprisingly, it was Tea who came up with the first idea.

"Ryou, have you spoken to Bakura at all about this?" Ryou shook his head, white hair brushing against his cheeks gently with the movement.

"I can't . . . you guys know how he is." Tea nodded.

"Okay . . . so we have to force him to admit it. That's easy. Knowing Bakura, he'll get jealous easily . . . so we give him something to be jealous about. If Yami's willing, one of us should 'pretend' to start dating him . . . or at least that we're becoming interested in doing so. He won't be able to stand that." She flipped her brown hair back behind her ear, blue eyes staring down at the table thoughtfully, drawing invisible designs on the surface with her fingertip. "It can't be me . . . if Yami's interested in Bakura, than someone female is definitely out. My suggestion would be Joey."

The blonde stared at her in shock, amber eyes wide before narrowing thoughtfully. It made sense . . . in a twisted kind of way. He and Yami were close friends . . . not as close as he and Yugi were, but close enough for it to be plausible. Question was, how did he feel about it? He'd never been interested in other guys . . . although he had to admit, if he ever was, Yami would be at the top of the list. He nodded slowly, chewing on his thumb nail absently for a moment before replying.

"It could work . . ." he murmured. "Bakura does strike me as the type that is possessive . . . if he really does have any feelings at all for Yami, he'll move to lay his claim if he thinks someone might take him out from under him. My worry is what he'll do to the person who's moving in on his territory."

Tristan chuckled slightly.

"I suppose I can play bodyguard," he said, smiling as he leaned back in his chair. "Bakura and I have come against each other before . . . he's smart, and fast, but I can outmaneuver him if I have to." He sobered after a moment. "If you guys are really sure this is the way to go, I'm in. Yami's my bud . . . if it'll help him get something he wants, than I'm there for him."

Yugi exchanged a glance with Ryou, considering the plan carefully. It could work . . . if Bakura didn't do something completely unexpected, as he was wont to do. The thief wrecked the best laid plans with an ease that would have been astonishing if it wasn't so damn frustrating. And what if Yami wouldn't go for it?

Yami? he called. He sensed the Pharaoh's attention turn towards him, and smiled slightly. Could you come to the Coffee Shop? We have something we want to discuss with you.

Of course, aibou, Yami replied. Just a moment. Yugi sat back and waited, holding the Puzzle between his hands. Yami hadn't done this in a while . . . since he'd gained his own body, he'd been wary of going back into spirit mode for anything, but he still could if it was necessary.

A quiet golden flash lit up their corner of the shop. When it faded, the Pharaoh stood beside the table. Shaking himself slightly, he settled into an empty chair, crimson eyes glancing around at the gathered friends curiously.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Something I missed?" Ryou smiled as Yugi cuddled into his taller counterpart, who drew the boy into his side lovingly and rested his chin for a moment on his aibou's head.

"You could say that," Tristan murmured. "You're about to have a suitor . . . Joey, to be exact." The crimson eyes widened as Yami sat up straight, a slightly shocked and wary expression on his features before he glanced to Yugi and Ryou. The shock faded quickly as his ever working mind put the pieces together.

"Intending on making Bakura jealous?" he asked. When everyone nodded, he frowned slightly, his eyebrows drawing down as he stared at the table in thought. His first thought was to say that it was too dangerous . . . if Bakura got jealous, there was no telling what he would do, and that could put Joey in danger. Then there was the fact that the thief was not stupid. After yesterday, Bakura had to know that he harbored feelings for him. There was the chance that he would be doing this for nothing. Still, some small part of him knew that he had to do something . . . even it was as farfetched as pretending to hook up with Joey.

He glanced at the amber eyed blonde in consideration, seeing only the willingness his tall friend had for helping him. If Joey was willing to do it . . . he had nothing to lose by going along with the plan. He'd already lost his heart. What greater pain could there be?

"Alright," he murmured, and smiled at the collective sigh of relief that passed around the table. "If you all are sure you want to participate in this . . ."

I don't like to see you suffering, my dark, Yugi murmured through their link, cuddling back into his side. If there's anything we can do to help, we'll do it . . . we're your friends, Yami. Yami tucked an arm around his diminutive light, listening with the other half of his soul as their friends began to sketch out the details of the campaign to make a five thousand year old, overly stubborn and obtuse thief jealous.

----------------------------

Bakura groaned, cracking his eyes open as he heard the front door open and what sounded like a herd of elephants entered the house.

"The groupies," he muttered, grumbling under his breath. "Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful." He wondered though . . . Ryou usually avoided bringing anyone over to the house, mainly for fear of what he would do to them. So what was he doing? He had to be up to something . . .

The door in the kitchen that led to his quarters opened.

"'Kura?" Ryou called down. "We're going to set up the Christmas tree . . . if you wanted to join in." The boy didn't sound hopeful . . . more like it was a token offer than anything. That was good. If Ryou had seriously thought he would join in on that nonsense, there would have been trouble.

A shiver crept over him, and he bolted upright, red-brown eyes widening as he identified the sensation. Yami was upstairs. The Pharaoh was in the house . . . so very near it was almost painful suddenly. He hadn't thought that Yami would get involved with this Christian holiday nonsense. This close to his rather disturbing revelation of caring for his former enemy, it was disconcerting to find himself suddenly in the same house.

Now what the fuck was he supposed to do? He wanted to continue to hide out down here . . . but he also wanted answers to the stalled events of the previous day. But he certainly didn't want to confront Yami in front of the amalgamation of teenage hormones upstairs at the moment. Perhaps he could go up there, be his usual self, and somehow get the Pharaoh alone for a few moments.

That thought stuck, and he finally levered himself off of the bed and stalked up the stairs to the kitchen. The main amount of noise was coming from the living room . . . from the sounds of it, the entire group was there, and had already begun digging into the box of glittering crap Ryou called ornaments.

"They must have brought a tree with them," he muttered, smelling the scent of pine in the air. Of course, that particular scent brought back the memory of being stuck up in a tree, and he growled under his breath before turning the corner into the living room.

He froze in the doorway, red-brown eyes widening in disbelief. The living room was a mass of moving bodies and glittering ornaments, mostly clustered around the tree in front of the bay window that looked onto the street outside. His eyes, however, only flickered over the others, coming to rest solely on the black jean and white t-shirt clad form of the man he was obsessing over lately.

His heart thudded in his chest painfully, and his breath suddenly wasn't anywhere near easy to suck into his lungs. It was like taking a hammer to his chest and his mind couldn't help but remember exactly what Yami looked like underneath that shirt. He couldn't help wishing that he knew what was under those pants as well, and inexplicably he blushed.

Unfortunately, before the blush went away, his hikari saw him.

"Oh . . . hello yami," he murmured, drawing everyone's attention to him. Quickly replacing the dumbstruck expression with his typical sneer, he stalked into the room, picking up an ornament and glaring at it before snorting disdainfully and casting the glittering thing aside. "I didn't think you would be joining us."

"You were making so much noise I couldn't hear myself think," he snarled, flopping into the only clear chair left in the room. "If I have to listen to you, I might as well see what stupidity you're up to." Eyes rolled all around the room, and he glared at them all in turn before turning his eyes back to the tree . . . and the Pharaoh who was standing near it. Was it simply his mind, or did Yami suddenly seem much more tense? Understandable, he supposed, considering what had gone on between them the last time they had seen each other.

However, that thought quickly disappeared beneath a red haze when Joey stepped up to the lithe figure, wrapping an arm around the slim waist and pulling Yami into the tall, lean body.

"Hey love . . . I found this over in Ryou's miscellaneous box," the blonde murmured. He was holding an Egyptian ankh ornament up for the Pharaoh's inspection. "Perhaps we should ask if we can borrow it for the tree over at the Game Shop." Yami nodded, and after a moment, snuggled closer into the blonde's chest, crimson eyes closing.

Knuckles whitening as his hands clenched on the arms of the chair, fingers nearly digging holes into the upholstery, Bakura barely managed to keep himself from standing up and going to tear the Pharaoh away from the amber-eyed blonde. What right did that mutt have to be touching HIS Pharaoh? Especially so intimately!

Joey buried his face in the spiky tri-colored locks, fighting to hide the smile that crossed his face when he saw Bakura's reaction to him holding Yami. Oh yeah . . . the thief definitely had it bad for the Pharaoh. Actually, now that he was holding the slim figure himself, he found himself wondering what Yami would be like as something other than a friend, but he quickly shoved that thought out of his head. While he did hover on the fence between being straight and gay, he'd never really been interested in another guy. Besides which, this wasn't about him and Yami . . . this was about getting Bakura to admit something that he wouldn't do otherwise. Hopefully, he would survive this little act. If he judged the look he was getting right, he would have said that the thief was currently plotting a very messy and painful death for him.

Yami, at the moment, was far from comfortable. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine that it was Bakura that was holding him in an effort to relax. This wouldn't work if he didn't look completely at east with Joey touching him like this . . . and the Tomb Robber was not stupid, no matter how much that came into doubt at times. He still wasn't sure if this was the right way to go about this . . . what if it had the opposite effect? What if Bakura saw that he was already claimed and simply backed off?

Growling under his breath, Bakura shoved himself out of the chair and stalked back down to his room, slamming the door as he went. Yami opened his eyes and pulled away from Joey at the loud noise, looking at Ryou in worry at the thief's obvious retreat.

"Well," Ryou murmured, shrugging and smiling slightly as he met the concerned crimson gaze. "I would say that went rather well."

Yami could only hope that the white haired hikari knew what he was talking about.


	7. On The Seventh Day of Christmas Seven T...

Disclaimer – I still don't own them, although it would be a great Christmas present. Bakura, wrapped in a bow, under my tree . . . how positively yummi . . .

Author's Notes – Another Chapter done, and I'm slowly catching up. I may just make me deadline after all. WHEE!

Chapter Seven – On the Seventh Day of Christmas – Seven Thoughts of Murder

Deep into the night, well after everyone had gone home, Bakura still sat in his armchair in the basement, glaring at the ceiling and thinking.

Seeing Joey holding Yami had hurt. The image flickered before his eyes again, and he snarled and took another drink. Coffee this time . . . if he had any more alcohol he was going to pickle himself. He'd drank more in the last four days than he usually ever did. He attributed it rightly to his own inner turmoil, but that didn't mean he was inclined to killing himself with the shit. He had the inexplicable urge to pick up smoking . . . another nervous habit that he considered a weakness, but at the moment he didn't particularly care.

What had the other day been to the Pharaoh? Had he just been looking for some action, and come to Bakura because he figured it was his best bet? White hair flew as the thief shook his head at that thought. One thing he was certain of was that Yami wouldn't have come to him purely for physical release. There had been something more there . . . something deeper. But if that was the case, what was he doing with the mutt?

That jackass didn't deserve the Pharaoh! Then again, while he was along those lines, neither did he. But he always had been one to reach for what couldn't, by rights, be his. He wanted . . . no, if he was honest, he NEEDED Yami. It was like a physical pain in his chest thinking that he might not have that option anymore.

The mutt needed to be taught a lesson about staying away from his property. Yami was his . . . he would allow no other outcome. But how to go about pressing that point and claiming his Pharaoh? Pale fingers drummed against the arm of the chair absently before his trademark sadistic smirk made it's appearance.

Perhaps it was time he and the mutt had a little talk. After he got some sleep of course . . . this emotional crap was exhausting.

----------------------------

Joey sighed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he walked to the Turtle Game Shop to join Yami and Yugi for a day of decorating and helping in the shop. Yesterday had definitely been interesting . . . and he was relieved that he hadn't run into Bakura yet. The psychotic spirit of Ryou's ring had looked ready to tear him apart limb from limb.

He had to admit that when he'd agreed to this, he hadn't expected anything to come of it. The Tomb Robber, falling in love with the Pharaoh? There was something seriously wrong with that thought . . . yet now that he'd seen the proof with his own two eyes, he could still scarcely believe it. He wasn't sure which he was more surprised by . . . the fact that Bakura was capable of emotion, or that he was developing feelings for Yami, of all people.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the pale hand that reached out and pulled him into an alley. Amber eyes widened in shock as a hand clamped over his mouth, finding his back abruptly against the wall. He stared down into muddy red eyes, and went cold. So much for thinking he might have gotten off lightly.

"Wheeler," Bakura snarled, leaning into the lean figure menacingly. "I'm only going to warn you once, mutt . . . keep your hands off of Yami." He released Joey's mouth when the blonde mumbled something against his hand. "What was that, mutt?" he growled.

"What right do you have to tell me what to do with Yami?" Joey snapped back, shoving the lighter man away and straightening. "You hate him . . . why should you care?" The red-brown eyes glaring at him narrowed dangerously, but he wasn't about to give up. If he could get Bakura to just admit to it now, they could end this charade, and Yami could be happy. "Don't tell me you're starting to care for him, Bakura, 'cause it's horseshit. You don't care about anyone but yourself . . . and occasionally your aibou." He froze when the thief drew a knife from behind his back, turning the blade so that it glittered in the dim light.

"You speak of shit you know nothing about, Wheeler," Bakura growled softly. "I ought to cut that tongue out of your head." He grinned demonically, and it was all Joey could do not to shiver at the cold look in the dark's eyes. "However, without a tongue you would be sadly unable to irritate Kaiba, which is much more fun to watch. But this is my final warning, Joey Wheeler. Stay away from Yami . . . or next time I might not be so pleasant." Slipping the knife back into the sheath at his back, he stalked out of the alley, leaving Joey staring after him, half in disappointment and half in relief.

That Bakura hadn't done anything other than threatening was surprising . . . and very telling as to the former thief's state of mind. Pulling himself together, he continued on to the Game Shop, anxious now to tell Yugi and Yami that the plan seemed to be working.

Slipping into the shop, he wasn't surprised to find Yugi at the register. But Yami was nowhere to be seen, which was odd.

"Yami's up taking a shower," Yugi said, seeing the confusion flicker in his friend's amber eyes. "He woke up late this morning." The diminutive duelist sighed, running a hand through his tri-colored hair and further spiking it. "I'm worried about him, Joey. I've never seen him like this . . . it's like he doesn't know in which direction to turn." Joey smiled slightly, leaning over the counter and winking.

"Well, I've got some information that might help put his mind to rest a little," the blonde murmured. "I just had a run in with Bakura . . . and if I read him right, he's jealous as hell. He just threatened me to keep away from Yami." Yugi looked stunned, and then concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching across to lay a pale hand on one brown sleeve. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Joey smirked.

"Bakura? Hell no . . . surprising as it was, he limited himself to threats and a little knife showing, and then stalked off." Yugi sighed in relief, leaning back on the stool to think this over as he considered his blonde friend.

He still couldn't believe that Yami and Bakura had a thing for each other. To be honest, he was relieved . . . the two of them would be a perfect match. But watching Yami go through this was hell . . . the Pharaoh was the other half of his soul, and seeing him so unsure about his next move was shocking as well as painful.

Upstairs, Yami was soaking under the hot water, trying NOT to think of his most current dilemma. The thought that Bakura might actually care for him was like pure ambrosia to his soul, but his mind simply wouldn't let his doubts rest. Five thousand years was a long time to be enemies . . . suddenly finding himself in love with the Tomb Robber and the possibility of having that love returned simply didn't want to smooth over in his mind.

If he'd known he was being watched at the moment, he probably would have had a whole lot less turmoil going on . . . because a certain white haired thief would have been planted in the Shadow Realm for a while.

The tree he was perched in was fast becoming uncomfortable, considering his current state of affairs. On the bonus side, Bakura was getting to see every inch of that delectable body . . . the problem was, his hormones were going into overdrive and his pants were fast becoming a little too restricted for his comfort. What had possessed him to climb another tree was beyond him . . . but after over hearing Yugi's comment about his dark being in the shower, he hadn't really given it much thought until he was up here.

The view, however, was well worth the effort. Silently thanking whatever god had created see-through shower doors, he watched unashamedly as water sluiced over firm, muscular golden skin, the upturned face looking like a heaven sent angel with the crimson eyes closed as Yami faced the pounding water. Now more than ever he really wanted to pick up where he and the Pharaoh had left off before.

He was tempted to pick his way in to the bathroom through the window, just so he could get a closer look. That, however, would be cheating, and still wouldn't tell him exactly what was going on in Yami's head with this whole mess.

Surprisingly, he was finding he wanted Yami completely willing . . . and not more than a little in love with him. It was disgustingly sappy of him, which the more sadistic side of him was quick to point out, but it was true. Of course, there was this little issue with the mutt that needed to be dealt with as well.

Another surge of rage and jealousy swept through him at that thought. Yami was HIS, Anubis take the blonde's soul! The fact that Joey had held that lithe form against his, and that Yami had relaxed into the embrace, churned in his stomach and mind like bitter acid. What was going on between the two of them? Wheeler wasn't . . . fucking his Pharaoh, was he? That thought made him burn to go make sure the mutt couldn't put anything into anyone ever again.

He stomped on that urge ruthlessly. First of all, if he even considered harming a hair on the idiot's head, any chance he had with Yami flew straight out the damn window. Second of all, Ryou would make his current life hell. Not that he particularly gave a flying fuck as to what his hikari thought . . . but having to suddenly find a new place to live would add stress to an already over-stressed situation. So he would let the mutt live . . . for now. Ra help the blonde if he touched Yami again, however. That would simply not be tolerated.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost missed the shower turning off. Red-brown eyes widened in sudden panic and he scrambled to get away from the window and down before he was caught being a voyeur. He would never live that blow to his reputation down!

Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that it was winter and that there were patches of ice on his current perch. Slipping on one of the patches, he swore and scrabbled for purchase . . . only to miss. Luckily, the fall was a relatively short one, and the snow had piled up under the tree enough to soften the fall, but it still knocked the wind out of him . . . as well as burying him up to his nose in the cold white mess.

Rising to his feet, he shook himself, grumbling under his breath as he was surrounded in a white, swirling cloud of the infernal stuff. Love was apparently making him stupid as well as clumsy. He stalked off, heading for the main strip of stores and a way to lose some stress . . . it was always fun to irritate the local law enforcement, and maybe it would help him get his mind off trying to convince Yami that he belonged to him.

Above and behind him, Yami stepped out of the shower with a sigh, wrapping one of the towels around his waist before leaving the bathroom on a cloud of steam and going to his own room next to Yugi's. It didn't often see much use, except for when he was changing clothes . . . he and Yugi had become too accustomed to being together at all times to really maintain separate rooms. More often than not, when it came time to sleep, he was in Yugi's bed, cuddled up to his light half. He smiled slightly . . . they hadn't done much of that over the past few days, and he did somewhat miss it. But he wasn't going to keep his aibou awake all night because of his own sleeplessness.

Sliding into a pair of midnight blue pants, he threw on a white silk shirt before running a brush through his hair and exiting the room to descend to the store below. He was surprised to find Joey there already . . . if anything, the blonde was notorious for being late, and Yami had expected to be down here before he even arrived.

"Good Morning, Joey," he murmured, stepping through the curtain. Amber eyes glanced towards him, and the blonde smiled and waved.

"Hey Yami," he replied, stepping away from the counter. "Another night with no sleep, huh?" Yami nodded reluctantly, and Joey made a sound of commiseration. "Hopefully he'll come to his senses soon, man. Even he can't be that stubborn." Joey quickly filled Yami in on what had happened before he'd arrived.

He hadn't counted on the crimson eyes narrowing with anger.

"He . . . does not . . . own me," Yami growled, clenching his fists by his sides. That Bakura would have the audacity to threaten one of his friends did not surprise him . . . the demand that Joey stay away from him, however, was beyond tolerable. Just who did that damn thief think he was dealing with? Turning from the concerned eyes of Joey and his aibou, he stalked to the back door, shoving his feet into his boots and shrugging into his leather jacket angrily. Love or not, he wasn't going to let Bakura get away with threatening his friends.

Behind him, in the shop, Yugi and Joey exchanged concerned glances before looking back to where Yami had disappeared, wondering what in the world was going to happen next.

----------------------------

Bakura strode down main street, window shopping for lack of a better idea. He'd forgotten that he'd stolen something here not too long ago . . . to hit the same place again would have been a monumental mistake on his part, so he limited himself to looking and not touching. It seemed to be becoming a habit in his life.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he grumbled to himself at his turn of thought. He just couldn't escape thinking about Yami, no matter what he did. When the hell had he become so damn infatuated with the man? It was disturbing that his views of the man could have changed so suddenly, especially after five thousand years.

He was accustomed to taking whatever he wanted . . . so why couldn't he simply do that with Yami and get it over with? This was getting old quickly. He didn't want to wait for the Pharaoh to come to him, didn't want to wonder if Yami loved him. He simply wanted him, all of him.

He remembered reading a quote in one of Ryou's books about love being a serious mental disease. He had to say that he agreed . . . if this had happened at any other time, he would have checked himself into a mental ward.

Drifting through the streets, he let his thoughts wander, not even realizing when he left the more populated areas of Domino for the darker side of town. He didn't come to that knowledge until he felt a hand on his arm, spinning him around to face the broad chest of the man who'd manhandled him.

"Well, look what we have here, boys and girls. A pretty boy who thinks its safe over here just because it's Christmas time." The gathered group of ruffians chuckled slightly, and Bakura smirked. Just what he needed to get his mind off of Yami . . . bloodshed.

"You have no idea who you're messing with, mortal," he growled, cracking his knuckles. "I'm no simple mark." His smirk grew into a bloodthirsty grin as the thick man chuckled again.

"Some scrawny little albino like you thinks he has a chance against all of us?" he said, gesturing around to the other five people who were with him. "Come off it man . . . just hand over your valuables and we might let you off with nothing more than a few scratches." Bakura chuckled coldly, brown-red eyes growing into an eerie red as he let the anger and bloodlust consume him.

"Too bad I cannot make the same offer," he murmured. He moved suddenly, taking the man by surprise as he dropped to one knee, drawing the knife from his back sheath and taking out the man's hamstrings in a single, smooth motion. He spun on the same knee, using the momentum to rise back to his feet as the leader went down, the other's staring at him in shock before they moved forward with an outraged cry. Bakura smirked, dancing among them and striking in precise areas, slowly and methodically taking them out one by one.

It wasn't until he heard the gunshot that he realized he'd gotten himself into a little more than he usually took on. The burning in his upper arm was a mere nuiscance, but he froze as he found himself looking down the barrel of a small pistol, held in shaking female hands.

"Brutus would have let you go," she whispered, her arms shaking from the strain of holding the gun out straight as 'Brutus' whimpered on the ground. "You didn't have to cripple him."

"He got in my way," Bakura snarled, wiping the knife blade off absently on his jeans as he moved carefully. The female was too tense by far . . . she was likely to shoot him if he made her jump. "Not all those who look like prey are. Some are even more cunning hunters than yourselves."

"Shut up!" she whimpered. "I . . . I don't want to shoot you." The sound of siren's suddenly rose into the night air, and the girl jumped. The gun bucked in her hand as her finger tightened on the trigger, and Bakura braced himself for the impact. Spirit he may have been, and possibly immortal to boot, they had never tested that theory. If he survived this, it was going to hurt . . . badly.

He was stunned when shadows seemed to simply shoot up out of the ground, wrapping the speeding bullet in inky blackness and freezing it dead in the air. Now, who the hell . . .? The girl shrieked, dropping her gun as the shadows entwined around her ankles, holding her in place. There was movement off to the right, and Bakura nearly jumped himself when Yami stepped out of the shadows of a nearby alley, the golden Eye of Horus glowing dangerously on his forehead. The tri-colored locks waved in the preternatural wind raised by the summoning of his Shadow Powers, and Bakura's blood ran cold at the look of rage on the former Pharaoh's face. Someone was in a world of trouble . . . and for once, it didn't look like it was him.

"You should be careful who you shoot at, mortal," Yami growled softly, advancing menacingly. "We do not suffer fools lightly." The shadows began to creep up the shivering girl's legs, and she squeaked in terror as Yami stopped in front of her, reaching out to run a golden hand down one tear streaked cheek before that same hand snapped out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze head on. "The Shadow Realm hungers for your soul, girl," he whispered. "Can you feel it calling, demanding to be fed? This is the price of trying to take another human life . . . learn the lesson well, child, for next time the shadows may get their wish."

A wave of one graceful hand banished the shadows easily, the golden glow fading slowly from his forehead until the Eye once again lay dormant. The girl sobbed in terror and fled, leaving behind her fallen comrades, who were attempting their own escapes, even wounded as they were. Yami paid them no heed, rather turning to Bakura, the anger fading slightly from the narrowed crimson eyes.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, one hand rising to caress the pale, blood streaked cheek before he caught himself and forced it into a fist at his side. Seeing Bakura in danger as he had been had done strange things to his heart, but he'd managed to control the urge to step in . . . until the gun had gone off. At that point, rage and fear had taken over. Yes, he was currently mad at the thief for threatening his friends, but not enough to wish him dead . . . at least, not by a hand other than his own.

"I was fine," the thief snapped, angered despite the relief that flickered through him at Yami's timely interference. Since when did he need the Pharaoh's protection? "You had no need to step in."

"Then I suppose I should have let the bullet hit you?" Yami growled in reply. He snatched the bullet, still suspended in the shadows, out of the air, holding it out in his hand like a marker. "This would have killed you, you know. No one had proven that we are immortal."

"What would you care?!" Bakura snarled back. He regretted it the instant he said it, but it was too late to take back, and he watched as Yami paled underneath the golden skin, his eyes widening slightly with pain.

"You really have no idea, do you?" he whispered. "Sometimes I wonder if you really are as intelligent as you seem to be at times." This time the hand did make it upwards, golden fingers running through the blood on his pale cheek and sending shivers through his spine at the simple touch. "Why do I even bother?" he murmured absently, staring into the wide red-brown eyes.

Stung by that statement, Bakura snapped a reply without thinking, once again letting his mouth run away with him.

"Don't you have a mutt to get back to?" he snapped. Yami sighed, the hand dropping away before he turned and began to walk off, back towards the Game Shop.

"Yes, I do," he called over his shoulder. "I'm done wasting time on you. Don't threaten my friends again, Tomb Robber. You will not survive it the next time."

Watching Yami walk away from him, Bakura tried to shove aside the pain that was threatening to spread outwards from his chest and drown him in it's depths. Something told him that Yami had meant more than just the current circumstances when he'd said he was done wasting time on him. Suddenly, the former thief wanted nothing more than to call Yami back and apologize. But pride kept him silent, and he watched with desolate eyes as the Pharaoh walked away . . . and never looked back.


	8. On The Eight Day of Christmas Eight Sno...

Disclaimer – Still don't own them, but I do have a letter out to Santa about that one. It would be nice to find Bakura wrapped in a bow under my tree Christmas morning . . .

Author's Notes – Day Eight! YAY! I know I'm behind . . . writing while baking and watching three kids rampage through my house is like trying to have your teeth pulled while knitting . . . virtually fricking impossible. But, I finally got this chapter done, so here it is. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 8 – On The Eighth Day of Christmas – Eight Snowflakes Melting

Yugi bustled around the kitchen, busily cooking breakfast, hoping that he could entice Yami to eat. The former spirit had not eaten, nor emerged from his room, from the time he had returned to the Game Shop after setting out after Bakura the previous day, and Yugi was worried.

What had happened between the two spirits? Had they had that big of a fight over Bakura's threat to Joey? Somehow, Yugi doubted that was the problem. Something else had occurred . . . he was just simply at a loss to figure out what.

Of course, there was what Yami had said to Joey before disappearing into his room. 'The charade is over, Joey. The prize isn't worth the pain.' What had that meant? Had he honestly given up on Bakura? Yugi wasn't sure whether to be relieved, or disappointed. His dark had never given up on anything . . . what could have happened yesterday between him and the thief to change that?

"Damn it," the youth snarled, slamming the pan of eggs down on a cool burner in an out of character display of temper. "If Bakura did anything to hurt him, I'll kill him myself." Silently drumming his fingers on the counter top, he debated calling Ryou and asking to speak with the former thief to give him a piece of his mind. That wasn't such a good idea . . . if Yami was like this, what condition was the Tomb Robber in?

That is, if he even cared. More and more Yugi was beginning to wonder if they had misjudged the thief's state of mind towards his dark. Maybe Bakura had just been playing a game with Yami . . . they couldn't really tell. It would be right in line with the other shit he did . . .

Sighing, Yugi fixed a plate for his dark and strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Knocking on the door lightly, he opened it and walked into the room. He was unhappy to find that Yami had not moved since Yugi had last come to check on him . . . he was still perched on the window seat, staring out the window at the falling snow, watching them melt against the glass, the desolation in those crimson eyes painful to see.

"Yami?" he murmured, drawing near. "I made you some breakfast . . ." There was no response . . . not even a flicker of those garnet orbs to signify that his dark had even heard him. "Please, Yami . . . you have to eat something. At least talk to me!" he pleaded. He reached out to touch one golden skinned shoulder, and gasped as he saw the crystalline tracks of tears coursing down the elegant face. "Oh Yami . . ." he murmured. Sitting down beside his dark, he wrapped the taller man in his embrace silently.

That simple, caring act was all it took for the dam to break. Yami's arms came up around him, holding him tightly as the tri-colored hair dropped to his shoulder, sobs shaking the slim form in his arms.

Quietly, Yugi held his other as the former Pharaoh cried silently . . . and he wondered if things would ever be all right again.

----------------------------

Ryou hung up the phone with Yugi a few hours later, chocolate eyes blazing with anger. Whatever game his dark was playing was ending now! The fact that Yami, of all people, had been crying on his hikari's shoulder was like a blow to the heart for the gentle boy, and that it was his yami's fault simply made him furious. How could Bakura do such a thing!? Surely his dark wasn't so heartless as to play with someone's emotions as he had!

Stalking over to the basement door, looking rather like the man he was planning to confront during that moment, he slammed the offending item open and stormed down the stairs.

"What the HELL were you thinking!?" he snapped at the figure lying prone on the bed. "How could you, Bakura!? Even I thought you were better than this!"

"You don't know anything about it, Ryou," Bakura snarled, not moving from his position of staring up at the ceiling. He didn't need to ask what his hikari was mad about. "Go away." Ryou placed his hands on his hips, which made him look even more feminine than usual, something Bakura usually would have smacked him for. But the thief wasn't up to it today. Actually, he doubted he'd ever be up to it again.

How could he have been so stupid? He should have swallowed his pride and apologized . . . called Yami back and done something . . . anything but let that last comment sink into the depths between them and ruin anything they could have had.

He could barely hear, see, or think through the pain that was throbbing in his chest . . . a pain that he didn't think would ever go away. At least he had his confirmation . . . he definitely felt something for the Pharaoh, his former enemy.

This was all the mutt's fault . . . if Wheeler hadn't made a move on Yami, his jealousy would have been under control, and his rage along with it. But being threatened with losing the Pharaoh to that idiot, of all people, had made him lose that fine tuned control he'd developed. And having been rescued by Yami hadn't helped. The last thing he needed was his weak little brat coming to lecture him. He simply wanted to lose himself in the pain and cease to exist.

"No, I'm not going away," Ryou snapped. "How could you do something like this, Bakura! How could you play with him like that! How could you sink so fucking low!" He started out of his skin when his yami sat upright abruptly, red eyes turning towards the youth. Ryou was stunned by the pain and anger that he saw there, and he paused in his rant to reassess the situation. Why would Bakura be hurt, unless . . . unless he hadn't been playing a game with the Pharaoh at all. "You do love him," he murmured unconsciously, staring at his dark in shock.

He was even more surprised when his yami's eyes closed, concealing the pain in those brown tinted depths. That Bakura hadn't come after him yet was a blessing, and a sign that he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Just go away, Ryou," Bakura whispered. He didn't feel like dealing with this right now . . . the world could just go on without him. He wasn't up to this shit at the moment. Unfortunately for him, Ryou wasn't going to cooperate. The gentle boy had finally seen his yami's softer side, and intended to use that to his best advantage.

Ryou crept to the bed, settling down onto it carefully beside his dark before reaching out to lay a gentle hand on one pale, muscular arm. The brown-tinted red eyes opened again, staring at him in shock before Bakura went to snap at him, but he beat his dark to the punch, laying a finger over the other's lips to silence him as he spoke.

"Why didn't you just tell him, 'Kura?" Ryou asked quietly. "Why all this bullshit?" He knew he was swearing an awful lot more than he usually ever would have, but he was terribly upset and out of sorts right now, and manners were the furthest thing from his mind. He needed to get to the bottom of this somehow.

Bakura sighed, shifting slightly before laying back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in misery. He could just talk to Ryou, he supposed. It couldn't hurt anything now . . . nothing could hurt him wore than what he'd done to himself.

"I . . . I didn't know for sure that I had fallen in love with him until last night, Ryou," Bakura said. He missed the slight jump of shock as he used the boy's name . . . he usually never did that. "I don't even understand how this could have happened. I've hated him for most of my life, hikari. How could I suddenly love my enemy?"

"There's a fine line between love and hate, 'Kura," Ryou murmured. "And five thousand years is a long time. He's the last person to know who you were . . . and the two of you are the only people like you in the whole world. It's natural. But why haven't you said anything?"

"I didn't . . ." He stopped as his pride choked him. He didn't want to admit his uncertainty about Yami's feelings to Ryou, nor did he want to say how much he'd wanted his feelings to be returned. But Ryou, always being uncannily able to read his mind, said it for him.

"You wanted him to love you in return, and you didn't know if he did," the boy murmured, comprehension dawning. "Oh, yami . . ." Bakura rose from the bed abruptly, stepping away from his hikari angrily.

"Don't pity me!" he snarled, clenching his fists. "If the damn mutt hadn't moved on him, I would have had more time to sort this out . . ." Ryou sighed sadly.

"Bakura . . . Joey and Yami aren't seeing each other," he murmured. When the red-brown eyes turned to look at him, he shrugged slightly. "They're just friends." He wasn't about to admit to the whole plan to make him jealous . . . that would simply send him into a rage right now, and Ryou wanted to continue to explore this strange new side of his dark.

"They looked awfully close setting up the tree to be simply friends," Bakura growled. Even now, the image of Joey and Yami together threatened his control. He wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands . . . or get rip-roaring drunk and drown it all out in the fuzz of an alcohol induced coma.

"Like he and Yugi usually are?" Ryou pointed out. Bakura shrugged angrily.

"That is different. They are yami and hikari, two halves of the same whole." Ryou shook his head sadly, chocolate eyes dark as he watched Bakura begin to pace restlessly. He couldn't very well just come out and tell his dark that Yami did, indeed, return his feelings. That was something only Yami could do, if he was so inclined to do so at all anymore. From the sounds of it, if what Yugi had told him over the phone was true, Yami was in just as much pain right now as his own yami was.

There was a knock on the front door just then, and Ryou growled slightly under his breath, sounding disturbingly like his dark as he rose from the bed and strode up the stairs to see who it was. Opening the door, he was surprised and somewhat mortified to find Joey standing on his front step.

"Ryou," Joey murmured without preamble. "Can I come in?" Ryou looked over his shoulder for a moment.

"I don't think that's such a good idea right now, Joey," he replied. The blonde shrugged, but walked past him into the house anyway.

"I assume Yugi called you about Yami," the amber eyed boy said, stopping just inside the doorway. Ryou nodded slowly.

"Yes," he murmured, wondering where this was going. Why was Joey here? Did he have a death wish or something? He had to know Bakura would be after his blood at this point . . . especially if Yugi had called him.

"I want to speak with your yami," Joey said, and Ryou's eyes widened in shock. Joey must have really had a death wish to come here to 'speak' with his dark. Sensing a presence behind him, Ryou turned around slowly, already sure of who was there and not liking it one bit.

"What do you want, mutt?" Bakura growled, cracking his knuckles ominously. In the bright light of day, out of the dim recesses of his room, the former thief looked even more haggard than usual. He was crackling with barely contained rage, and the pain that seemed to envelope him in a dark cloud was even stronger now than it had been. "Haven't you done enough?"

Joey held up his hands in surrender, signally that he wasn't there to fight . . . much. Unfortunately for him, Bakura was in no mood to listen to that silent plea. Striding across the distance between them, he slammed the taller man back against the door, his teeth bared in a feral grimace as Ryou tugged ineffectively at his arm, trying to get him to release the blonde.

"Bakura, this isn't going to help anything . . ." he said desperately. He backed off when Bakura snapped at him.

"It will make me feel a whole hell of a lot better," he snarled before turning back to Joey. "What did you do? Come to gloat? The homicidal, anti-social thief falls in love with his enemy and you take him out from under my nose . . . that kind of shit? Get out of here, Wheeler, and leave me alone." His hands tightened dangerously around Joey's throat, making it harder for the blonde to breath.

Amber eyes stared down at the white haired thief solemnly, refusing to give in to the fear that was coursing through his veins at the moment. If he showed any sign of it now, he would throw Bakura off the edge of sanity, like a rabid wolf. He'd come here to set things to right, and damn it, he was going to do it even if it killed him.

"Yami loves you, Bakura," he said hoarsely, forcing the words past the slowly tightening grip on his throat. "There wasn't anything between us. We wanted to make you jealous, so that you would come out and admit how you feel about him. That's it. He doesn't think you can return the sentiment." He gasped, taking in a great lungful of air when Bakura suddenly released him, staring at him in shock, his pale face going even paler as the red-brown eyes widened.

"What?" he said, for once his voice a normal baritone rather than the growl he usually effected. "What are you talking about?"

"It's true, 'Kura," Ryou murmured, giving Joey a moment to get himself back in order after that near brush with death. "I don't know what happened between you and Yami yesterday, but Yugi just called not too long ago. Whatever happened, Yami's heartbroken. He loves you, yami." He sighed, settling into one of the kitchen chairs. "But you know him better than anyone, other than Yugi. He won't admit to something like that if he doesn't think you'll ever love him in return."

Now it was the thief's turn to drop into a chair, staring in turn from Joey to his hikari, shock painting his features with an interesting palor. Yami . . . loved him? It was impossible! But his heart started thumping against his chest, hope welling up in him before he crushed it ruthlessly. After what he'd said and done yesterday . . .

Ryou, easily reading his dark's thoughts, reached across the table to lay a soft, comforting hand on his dark's pale arm.

"He'll forgive you . . . if you can just swallow your pride long enough to say your sorry," the boy murmured.

He needed to think . . . this was unexpected, although not altogether unwelcome. Standing slowly, he disappeared into the living room, leaving Ryou and Joey to stare after him in confusion.

"Well . . . I'm still alive," Joey muttered finally, rubbing at his throat. "That's better than I expected to be after that." Ryou smiled slightly and shook his head at the irrepressible blonde, amused despite the situation. Glancing back towards where his dark had disappeared, he got up and fixed them both a cup of hot chocolate, hoping that Bakura would now come up with some way to repair the damages between Yami and himself.

Who said Christmas wishes didn't come true?

----------------------------

Yugi paced the living room floor, his hands shoved into his pockets as he thought. Yami had finally fallen into an exhausted slumber over three hours ago, something that his aibou was extremely grateful for. Seeing his dark so broken and hurt was unnerving, and painful.

He hoped he'd done the right thing by calling Joey and Ryou. His white-haired friend had sounded awfully angry when they'd hung up . . . and Joey had hung up the phone just as quickly after saying he had something he had to do. He hoped they weren't going to do anything to make the situation worse . . . although he doubted anything could make things worse than they already were.

Damn the thief and his infernal games! Yugi had really thought there might be something there . . . some emotion towards his dark other than hatred. Now Yami was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to hit something . . . or rather, someone . . . and that startled him. He usually wasn't very violent – actually, he hated violence. Yami was the one who handled confrontations. But now he was angry, and hurt on behalf of his dark.

If he knew he stood a chance against Bakura, he would have gone over there and given the thief a piece of his mind. As it was, he could only sit back and try to help his yami deal with this, and that bothered him. Yami had done so much for him . . . been there for him so many times . . . and all he could do was watch his best friend's heart break into a million tiny pieces.

The phone rang, and he grumbled slightly before going to pick it up.

"Motou residence," he said, trying to keep his worry and anger out of his voice.

"Yugi!" Tea's voice came from the handset. "Hey, don't forget about the party tomorrow night! You guys have all got to be there." Yugi slapped his forehead, stunned with his own memory loss. How could he have forgotten that, of all things?

Kaiba Corp. was having a small Christmas party for the resident duelists of Domino City. He and Joey had been invited . . . he suspected the invitations had been done by a computer, because Kaiba would never have sent one to Joey. Ryou had been invited too . . . apparently anyone who had participated in Battle City was invited. Tea, Tristan, and Duke were all going as guests.

It was supposed to have been him and Yami's first appearance in public as separate entities, separate duelists. But with Yami in the condition he was in now . . . perhaps the party wasn't such a good idea.

"Tea . . . I don't think Yami and I will be going," he replied finally. "There's . . . well, circumstances," he muttered, unwilling to go into detail. It was Yami's business, after all. He scuffed his foot against the carpet gently.

"Yugi, you simply have to come! You're the Battle City Champion!" Tea said. "It won't really be a party without you!"

Yugi nearly started out of skin when a familiar, fatigued tenor spoke behind him.

"We will go, aibou," Yami murmured. "There is no sense to missing it . . . simply because of what occurred. We made plans to go, so we shall go." Yugi turned to face his dark, concern darkening the amethyst eyes as he took in the weary stance and dull garnet eyes.

"Are you sure, Yami?" he asked quietly. "I mean . . . Bakura might be there . . ." He hated seeing Yami flinch at the mention of Bakura's name, but the Pharaoh quickly drew himself together.

"I can't hide from him for the rest of my life, little hikari," Yami replied. "I will have to face him sometime . . . and I would rather it be in a crowd, surrounded by my friends." Yugi nodded sadly, smiling slightly in an attempt to comfort his dark before returning to his conversation with Tea.

"Okay, Tea," he said. "We'll be there." They said their goodbye's and hung up before Yugi returned his attention to Yami. The Pharaoh had sank onto the couch, staring absently at the powerless television. He walked over to his yami softly, dropping down on the sofa and squeaking softly when the taller man pulled him closer, cuddling him into his side gently.

"Thank you, little one," the former Pharaoh murmured softly. "For earlier." He smoothed a hand through the wild tri-colored locks absently, seeming to draw his own comfort from the absent caress. "It is not often that I need to do that."

"Hey," Yugi said, turning around so that he could look up into the crimson eyes. "If you can't cry in front of me, of all people, then we're really in trouble. Besides . . . it's nice to know you're as human as the rest of us sometimes." Yami smirked slightly, and Yugi blushed as he realized what he'd said. "Being a five thousand year old former spirit doesn't count, Yami," he mumbled defensively, burying his burning face against his dark's chest. He was gratified when a chuckle rumbled in his ear.

"Of course not, aibou," Yami said, still chuckling. "How remiss of me to think that." Yugi smacked him playfully, in return of which he began tickling his small counterpart.

Happy to see his dark freeing himself of the black despair he had been drowning in, Yugi didn't fight back nearly as hard as he usually would have.

Yami shoved Bakura out of his head, relishing being able to spend time with his light. There would be enough time later in his life to mourn what might have been. For now, he had Yugi and their friends . . . and that would be enough. It had to be, for his sake as well as theirs. He would not drag them down with his misery. He simply wouldn't allow it.

----------------------------

Bakura watched the snowflakes melting against the warmer glass of the house with absent eyes, his thoughts a rampant jumble of chaos after the confrontation with the mutt earlier. He hadn't moved from this spot since then, seated on the window seat staring out at the whitening world.

Yami loved him. That thought was a constant circle in his head. Yami LOVED him . . . and he'd completely fouled it up by letting his pride and jealousy get the better of him. He'd already gotten over his anger at being played . . . he'd deserved it, in the end, for being such an idiot. How could he have been so blind?

That day Yami had come over . . . the day that he'd almost made his claim on the Pharaoh . . . Yami hadn't been here just to fuck. He'd come to find out how Bakura felt about him . . . and all he'd been able to think about was divesting the man of his clothing and pounding him through the couch. When had he become so completely blind and stupid!? Five thousand years of celibacy must have done something to his head . . . or rather, to both heads.

How was he going to fix this? He was a thief, for Ra's sake! He'd never been good with relationships, or emotions for that matter. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He straightened slightly as he sensed Ryou's presence in the room behind him, but didn't turn to look. His hikari had been in and out to check on him ever since the mutt had left. This time, however, he wasn't walking right back out.

"Bakura?" the boy said softly, coming to stand just behind his right shoulder. "You can still fix this . . ."

"How?" he growled quietly. "I'm not good with people, Ryou . . . you above anyone else should know that." Ryou sighed, and in a rather stunning display of bravery, sank onto the window seat next to him, their knees touching. Bakura considered it for a moment before deciding to just let it be. If he had to be honest with himself about Yami, he might as well be honest about Ryou as well. The boy wasn't nearly as annoying as he pretended he was . . . and he really didn't deserve the treatment he was handed by his own yami. Perhaps it was time he started being nicer to the boy . . . after all, Ryou had finally grown enough of a spine to both stand up to him and get close to him without flinching. He supposed his little duck had finally turned into a swan . . . or his cub into a full grown tiger, whichever mood he was in at the moment.

"There's the party tomorrow night," Ryou murmured, and Bakura moaned before dropping his head into his hands. He'd forgotten about that stupid thing . . . but Yami would be there. His head rose again at that thought, the reddish brown eyes lightening slightly before darkening again. Who could say that Yami would be there . . . if the other yami was in as bad a shape as him, he would want to skip a party of any sort and just be miserable and alone.

"Yami won't be there," he said, pressing one pale hand against the cool glass. "Not after yesterday."

"It's a shot, Bakura," Ryou replied, laying a smaller, pale hand over his against the glass. "It's better than sitting here moping, isn't it?"

"I'm not 'moping'," he snarled slightly, and Ryou giggled a bit. Okay . . . that laugh simply had to go. It made him sound so girlish it was frightening.

"Whatever," the boy said. "But at any rate, it'll give you a chance . . . and since all of us will be there, you're more likely to get close to him."

Bakura had to admit Ryou had a point. Fine . . . he would go to this party. Then, he would set about proving to Yami how much he had grown to love him . . . and that he belonged to no one but his former enemy.

Silently, closer than they had ever been in both body and spirit, the two white haired men sat watching the world turn white.


	9. On the Ninth Day of Christmas – Nine Sho...

Disclaimer – Still don't own them . . . Santa either missed my letter, or I've been a naughty girl. Aww hell . . . naughty is more fun anyway, right?

Author's Notes – Another chapter . . . unfortunately far behind schedule. I wanted this done and the last chapter posted on Christmas Day. Dang it! Ah well, I'll just post late and let you all enjoy it anyway. Merry Christmas!

Review Replies - Cause it's about time I did them . .

LadyGrey – My most loyal reviewer – glad you love it hun. Sleep is a good thing, by the way. Reviews like yours keep me writing, because I get SUCH a kick out of them. You have no idea how hard you had me laughing! Luv you hun, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading my stuff as much as I enjoy writing it. Hell, you're so loyal, I might even do a fic for you. Just tell me what you want : )

Deb – Thank you for all the reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy : )

Ken-z – Of course I'm going to drag it out the full twelve days. It wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I didn't! Beside . . . torturing these two is far too amusing for me. I'm having the time of my life here!

MarikIshtar77 - bows thank you, thank you. I understand the Christmas rush, trust me. Been there, done that . . . 27 years of it, in fact. Oy, am I really that old? Yeck . . . remind me to forget my age sometime – it's disturbing when I remember it.

Nelly –Bakura is stubborn because . . . well, because he's Bakura, and I love him far too much. He just has to be an asshole . . . it's in his genetic makeup.

aspiker - Nope, no trips for Joey . . . not yet at any rate

Kschur32 – Hope you continue to enjoy.

Idril – nope, don't mind if you borrow them . . . just be sure to give them back. I need them still : )

HanyouWicabeth - waves cheerily still reading your stuff, glad your reading mind. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy

Sylvie Viridian – I can always drag stuff out. Just read some of my other stuff. I love being a mean bitch : )

TinyClownBean1 – Glad you like it so much : )

Anime Darling – hehehe : )

Millie Ishtar Motou – AnzuXYami? How disgusting. I didn't put that in here, did I? looks over the story No, don't think I put that in here . . . scratches head in confusion Ummm . . . yeah.

PainfulRememberence – More on its way : )

Mellinde – Here you go.

Lilmatchgirl007 – don't worry . . . they'll get their act together eventually . . . sometime rubs her hands gleefully.

Kit-kit – as you requested. It was difficult to write, so forgive me not going into details. It's not a couple I'm fond of.

Kibethan – Yep . . . got the idea and just went with it. Couldn't help myself.

Silvershadowfire – Yeah, I was a little amazed myself. Guess Yami's having a bad influence on him.

Sugar Moe – Thank you : 0

HiddenInTheNight – More coming . . . hold on to your panties : )

Dangerousgirl – Your wish is our command. But you'll have to read the full, unedited version on I don't want to get shut down again here.

Shy – Thanks.

BewareofFryingPans – hehe, I thought so too.

WolfGirl90 – You think you were laughing . . . you should have seen me writing it. I was crying so hard from laughing I had trouble writing it.

BOE – 4eva – Surgery went quite well, and I'm just about healed. No more kids for me . . . halleluiah! Three is enough, thanks.

Shadows of chaos61 – Yeah, me and my hikari spent a good while talking about that one before I typed it. So I have to give thanks to him . . . thank you Tora Hikari!

And now, on with the story!

Chapter 9 – On the Ninth Day of Christmas – Nine Shots Later

The sun was already well into the sky when Yugi awoke the next morning. He was thrown off a bit by the presence of a warm body beside him . . . Yami's absence over the last few days from their usually shared bed had forced him into a lonely sleeping pattern. But Yami had joined him last night, the two of them cuddling together as they drifted off to sleep.

Actually, it had more been Yami cuddling with him, which was definitely not normal. Usually Yami, as the taller, older, and more mature of the two held him until he fell asleep, and then fell asleep afterwards. But the emotional turmoil of the last few days had obviously taken it's toll on his dark self . . . Yami had been the first to fall asleep, with his head cradled on Yugi's shoulder, his light lightly massaging his scalp and back to ease some of the tenseness.

Now, he turned over to stare at the peaceful features of the man lying beside him, and smiled softly before running a fingertip down his dark's arching cheekbone. So much pain lay underneath that peaceful face right now . . . and the party was tonight. He knew it would be rough on his dark to be in the same area as Bakura right now, but Yami had made his decision and they would go.

Sighing, he rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb his still slumbering guardian as he crept from the room. His stomach was rumbling . . . he needed to eat. He was glad that the store was closed today . . . that gave them more time before facing what was coming tonight.

In the middle of cooking some eggs up for himself, there was a knock on the back door. Yugi glanced at it curiously . . . who would be stopping by at nine in the morning? Slipping the pan off to one side, he strode over to the door and opened it, surprised to find Joey standing on the stoop.

"Hey, Joey," he murmured, stepping aside in a silent invitation for the blonde to come in. He looked his tall friend over carefully . . . was it just him, or did Joey seem to be nervous?

"Yug," he replied by way of greeting, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over the back of the kitchen chair. "I wanted to talk to you . . . if you've got a moment." Amethyst eyes glanced at him curiously before Yugi decided this was apparently serious enough that his eggs and rumbling stomach would have to wait.

"Sure, Joey," he said, shutting the stove off. "What's up?" Joey shifted uneasily, amber eyes finding the floor suddenly very interesting as he was unable to meet the smaller youth's eyes. How was he supposed to say this? Finally, he just gave up with words. Stepping forward until he was toe to toe with Yugi he leaned down . . . and kissed him.

Amethyst eyes widened as the blonde's lips gently caressed his own, standing stock still as Joey pulled back and blushed furiously.

"I . . . uh . . ." Joey began, then stopped and took a deep breath. "This business with Yami made me really think, and I sort of came to the realization that I'm gay," he murmured finally. "Thing is . . . I think I'm in love with you, Yugi. I think I have been for awhile now . . . I've just been in denial." He shrugged slightly, shifting uneasily at the continuing shocked silence of the smaller youth. "Holding Yami the other day . . . even if it was just to make that dumbass Bakura jealous, made me realize which way I swing. I . . . would kinda like to give it a try between us . . ."

The amber eyes looked up, and a grin began to spread at the flushed, happy face Yugi had turned up towards him. He grunted when the smaller body impacted with his own, Yugi hugging him tightly as he burrowed into the arms Joey wrapped around him in bemusement.

"I'd like that too, Joey," Yugi murmured. "I didn't want to say anything to you . . . because you were still unsure about your . . . inclinations." He blushed furiously when a low chuckle came from behind them, near the kitchen door. He turned his head, still buried in the blonde's embrace, and amethyst eyes widened as he spied Yami lounging against the doorway, a peaceful expression on the otherwise worn face.

"I had wondered when the two of you would approach each other," Yami said, stepping forward as Joey stiffened, suddenly nervous. The blonde eyed the former Pharaoh warily . . . this was the hardest part of finally approaching Yugi. Yami, while being a great friend, was also Yugi's guardian. If he didn't approve . . . or if Joey made one wrong move that hurt Yugi . . . well, he didn't really want to contemplate the consequences.

Yami saw that nervousness, and smiled slightly before nodding his head and taking a chair at the table.

"Relax, Joey," he murmured, crimson meeting amber solemnly. "I have no problems with this arrangement. Rather, I am happy for you and my aibou. I know you will never hurt him intentionally . . . and you understand the nature of the bond between him and I better than most. There will be no jealousy issues with you, as there could have been with someone who did not know us as well." Joey let out a rather loud sigh of relief, to which both Yugi and Yami chuckled slightly.

"Thanks, Yami," he replied, loosening his hold on Yugi slightly. "I have ta admit . . . I was worried."

"Obviously," the dark said, a slight tinge of humor coloring his voice.

"Yami, be nice," Yugi said admonishingly, shaking his head at his irrepressible dark. Yami's grinned widened, and he raised one hand in a symbol of surrender. His smile widened as the newly formed couple parted, Yugi returning to his eggs as Joey sank into a chair across from him at the table.

"I'm happy for the two of you, really," he murmured, reaching across to lay a hand on Joey's arm. "I am glad that someone's love life is working out so well." Amber eyes darkened at the reminder of Yami's own love life problems, and he shifted uneasily.

"Yami," he started, and then paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Bakura . . ." He stopped when the former Pharaoh held up one hand imperiously.

"Say no more, Joey," he said softly, the crimson eyes darkening at the mention of his unrequited love. "What lies between Bakura and myself . . . is between the two of us alone. Do not worry about it . . . what will be, will be. He's made his decision . . . and I will survive it. It is only my heart, after all. I still have my friends, and my aibou. That will be enough."

Joey sighed, patting the hand on his arm gently and maintaining his silence. He'd been planning on telling Yami about the confrontation between him and the Tomb Robber yesterday evening . . . but it seemed Yami wasn't ready. Besides, as he had said . . . it was between the two of them. He only hoped Bakura pulled his head out of his ass soon . . . before it was too late to heal the damage between them.

----------------------------

Rolling over, only half awake, Bakura froze as he came in contact with another warm body. Confused for a moment, he blinked oddly before remembering the events of the previous day. Sighing, he slid out of the bed, turning as he stood to look down at his pure light.

This had been a first for both of them . . . the first time either of them had trusted the other close enough to touch, close enough to hurt. This sickening foolishness with Yami had opened the floodgates of his own pent-up emotions, emotions he could have sworn he'd discarded long ago. It was terribly annoying . . . and yet, at the same time, it made him feel oddly free of the constraints his past had forced him to place upon his soul.

But now, he'd also opened himself up to pain, which is what he'd really wanted to avoid all along. The pain of his horrible past and the terrible things he had seen, the torment of the things he had done in his misguided quest for power and vengeance. Those, however, were a dull ache now when compared to the pain of what lie between him and Yami.

Tonight was his final chance . . . if he couldn't make things right at the party, then he would never be able to. He would never be allowed to get close to the Pharaoh again.

Heading for the bathroom, he slipped out of the jeans and shirt he'd fallen asleep in, turning the water on to heat as he stared into the mirror. This was what he had become . . . no longer the cold, heartless bastard that was the enemy of the Pharaoh. He could barely equate the image in the mirror with what he knew of his own soul. Those red-brown eyes that had locked in battle with garnet orbs so many times, across the dueling field and in simple day to day life, had lost the steely glint that warned others not to approach. There was a softness there, deep within their depths . . . a softness caused by Yami.

Stepping into the shower, he hoped only that the day would pass quickly . . . and that the night would prove to be successful in his bid to win the Pharaoh as his for eternity.

----------------------------

Yami lounged against one wall, watching the moving crowd of party-goers with weary, leaden eyes. He had yet to have seen Bakura, and he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Honesty required him to admit that he wanted to see the white haired thief . . . even if it hurt him to do so.

He'd stuck with leather tonight, while Yugi had chosen black slacks and a black dress shirt. He hadn't really given a thought to what to wear . . . his black leather pants and his buckled shirt were what he was most comfortable in, so that was what he had worn. With belts in place, his duel deck snugly in it's deck box at his hip, he was as comfortable as he was going to get . . . especially considering the circumstances.

Garnet eyes watched as the tall, lanky millionaire CEO of Kaiba Corp. made his way through the crowd. He had yet to have actually come face to face with the man . . . a blessing, in his opinion. Kaiba had his head so far up his ass about magic that he couldn't see the light of day if he really tried, and it irritated Yami to no end, especially when his rival had been confronted with Shadow Magic a good dozen or more times. That the man could be that stubborn was no surprise . . . that he could deny reality to that extent was frightening in someone who claimed to be so logical.

They had been there an hour so far, and few questions had actually been asked about the startling resemblance between himself and his aibou. Of course, Yugi had wanted to introduce him as the true King Of Games, but he'd told Yugi the title was rightfully his. It had been him doing most of the dueling, yes . . . but it had been Yugi's heart that had fueled the deck and allowed him to win. By right's, the title was Yugi's. Besides, he didn't miss it . . . he rather liked being able to duel for fun alone without people challenging him left and right for his title.

He stiffened as he caught a glimpse of white hair in the crowd, but relaxed when it proved to be someone wearing a wig. He shook his head wryly, amused and annoyed that he was so jumpy about seeing Bakura again. What was done was done . . . Bakura didn't love him, and he would simply have to accept that fact. His heart, what was left of it, was Yugi's anyway . . . and that was a love he would never lose.

Speaking of his aibou . . . Crimson eyes glanced over the dance floor, taking in the taller blonde who held his aibou like precious glass in his arms. He shook his head again, a slight quirk of lips gracing his aquiline features. That was something Joey was going to have to get over . . . Yugi wouldn't appreciate being treated as breakable for very long.

He supposed his room and his bed were going to start seeing more use after all . . . he'd have to resign himself to sleeping alone again eventually. Of course, he'd been hoping they would see more use for other reasons . . .

Sighing, he shoved that thought out of his head, intent on not dwelling on his crumbled dreams for the night. This was a party, and he really should be enjoying it, not mourning what would never be.

Behind him, also lurking in the shadows, a pair of red-brown eyes watched him intently. Pale hands clenched into fists when Yami jumped slightly after spying the wig-wearing idiot, but he restrained himself from punching the nearby wall. He and Ryou had arrived not long after Yugi and Yami had, and he'd spent the entire time so far awaiting an opportunity to approach the Pharaoh. Unfortunately, it seemed his nerves weren't up to it yet, because he kept finding excuses not to do so.

Of course, he also doubted Yami would welcome his company right now, especially with that kind of reaction to just seeing white hair. With a low growl, he stalked off towards the bar to find some liquid courage . . . maybe after he had a good buzz, his idiotic nerves would back off and let him do this.

You still haven't done it yet, have you? Ryou asked from the other side of the room, watching his yami wind his way through the crowd to the bar. Bakura . . .

I'm working on it! he snapped in reply, signaling the bartender for some attendance. It's not exactly a walk through the Valley of Kings. He sensed Ryou's sigh, and sent a growl back in reply before downing the shot of tequila, wincing as it burned through his throat and hit his stomach like a lava burst. Three more shots, and he was doing rather well . . . until Kaiba showed up, that was.

"Ryou . . ." Kaiba said, leaning against the bar next to him. "You're not old enough to drink." Bakura turned and snarled up at him before downing his fifth shot.

"I am not my hikari, jackass," he growled, signaling for another shot. "Ryou's over with the gaggle of teenagers across the room." He glanced up to find blue eyes staring down at him in shock, and rolled his eyes before turning to face the man head on. "Problem, Kaiba?"

"First Yugi has a look-a-like, now Ryou," the taller man murmured, blinking rapidly. "What the hell . . ."

"I can't explain why the Pharaoh and I look so much like our hosts," Bakura said with a shrug. "Or rather, why our hosts look so much like us. It's not like they're our reincarnations or anything . . . we would have to have been dead and our souls passed on to the afterlife for that." He gestured to himself, the Ring flashing into existence around his neck as he did so. "My soul was trapped in this, as Yami's was in the Puzzle . . . so reincarnations our hikari's are not." Kaiba had jumped when the Ring appeared, a detail that did not escape the former thief's attention.

"Still nervous around Shadow Magic, Kaiba?" he murmured, stepping forward. The brunette flinched, but held his ground. "One day your going to have to wake up and face reality, priest."

"Don't call me that," Kaiba whispered, his eyes glued on the Ring. Bakura rolled his eyes. He was starting to feel the effects of the tequila now, and he was suddenly in the mood to play.

"Call you what, Seto? Priest? It's what you were . . . back in my time. Just as stuck up as you are today, too. Of course, back then you and Yami were something more akin to friends than you are now." He reached up and ran a pale finger down the man's cheek, smirking when the sapphire eyes widened slightly at the unexpected touch. Play time, however, was cut short by a sudden movement in the crowd behind him.

Yami, having seen Bakura engaged in conversation with Kaiba, had moved to intervene. Unlike himself, Bakura was much more prone to sending people who annoyed him into the Shadow Realm on a moment's notice, and Kaiba's lack of belief in who they were . . . and who they had been . . . annoyed him at the best of times.

The caress, however, caught him off guard, and sent a stabbing pain through his heart. Having failed with him, now Bakura was going after Kaiba? He staggered backwards, clenching his hands into fists as crimson eyes closed with pain, whirling on one heel to leave. He wove through the crowd absently, gasping slightly as he tried to fight back the pain in his heart at having been so easily forgotten by the thief he had unfortunately come to love.

Swearing under his breath, Bakura left off his game with Seto to go after Yami, growling when an arm grabbed his shoulder and stopped him from going anywhere.

"Let . . . go . . ." he snarled, turning around to glare at Kaiba threateningly.

"Tell me who you are . . . " Seto demanded. In response, Bakura flipped him off.

"You already know the answer to that, if you would just pull your head out of your ass," he snapped, and then stalked off into the crowd, following the trail Yami had left.

Ryou . . . he called. Did you see Yami?

What did you do this time? his hikari asked, voice tinged with annoyance. Bakura growled under his breath, sending his anger down through the link and feeling it impact against the younger boys mind like a sledge-hammer.

Just tell me where he is, he snarled.

He went out the door . . . said something about needing some air . . . Ryou whispered. Unknown to Bakura, more than just anger had come through the link . . . there had been desperation, pain, and sorrow in that mix as well. He wondered what was going on . . . and hoped desperately that everything would turn out all right in the end.

Bakura stalked out the doors, swearing to himself when he couldn't find any sign of the Pharaoh. Sighing, he tapped into the Ring to track the Puzzle . . . which, of course, would be a great big 'The Thief Is Following You' sign to someone as sensitive to Shadow Magic as Yami was. It couldn't be helped though . . . he was not going to let Yami continue to think he didn't love him. Not if he valued what little sanity he had left, that was.

He planned what he was going to say the entire time he stalked the former Pharaoh . . . up until the moment when he actually found him, at which point every single thing he'd been planning to say died before it reached his lips.

Just as he found Yami, the former Pharaoh threw a punch into one wall, leaving a bloody smear as he pulled back and did it again. The crimson eyes were wild, and glowed with an eerie inner anger that drew Bakura like a moth to a flame, even as Yami wound up for another punch. He intercepted the fist in one pale hand, using it to turn the Pharaoh around before using his body to pin that lithe, leather-clad frame to the wall.

"Let . . . me . . . go," Yami snarled. His breath hitched in his chest as the pale thief brought his bleeding hand up to Bakura's mouth, just before the thief's tongue darted out to caress the split flesh, licking up the blood there with a warm, wet caress. "Bakura . . ." he groaned, the gesture sending fire shooting through him to his groin as he suppressed the shudder that threatened to tear through him.

"Delicious," the pale man whispered, moving the hand aside before leaning in closer. "Absolute perfection . . ."

"Tomb Robber . . ." Yami growled, but his voice lacked the conviction of anger. There was longing there . . . a longing that was quickly fulfilled as Bakura pressed his lips against Yami's, stifling the moan that movement elicited as one pale hand crept down to the trim waist, resting there possessively as he tasted the Pharaoh.

Yami shivered as the thief's tongue dipped into his warm cavern, teasing his own muscle into play and making the anger and pain of a moment ago nothing more than a vile dream. He mewled slightly when those lips left his, only to trail over his jaw and down the sensitive skin of his neck to lay a kiss, accompanied by a soft nip, to the thin flesh just below his right ear.

His knees suddenly buckled when one pale hand caressed him through the tightening leather of his pants, the only thing holding him up suddenly being the lithe, muscular body pressed against him.

"Oh Ra," he whispered hoarsely, feeling Bakura's teeth working on the choker around his throat.

"You . . . wear . . . far too many . . . of these things," Bakura growled softly, finally getting the choker undone. Admittedly, it would have been easier with his hands, but those were otherwise occupied in other places on the Pharaoh's body at the moment, and he was reluctant to move them. The last thing he wanted right now was Yami coming back to his right mind.

Maybe saying the words was difficult for him, but he could show Yami how he felt, at least. That was the plan, at any rate . . . although it could have been induced by the shots finally catching up to him and the feel of the tight, warm body he was pressed against. He moaned himself when Yami brushed his own hard-on, pushing back lightly to increase the contact

A sound further down the hallway attracted his attention, but only for a moment. It was enough to cause him to pull the shadows around himself and the Pharaoh, drawing them into the Shadow Realm and away from any intruders on what he wanted and needed from the man in his arms.

He was startled considerable when, once they had both regained their bearings, Yami began responding back to him, starting with the removal of his dress shirt. He sighed as he felt golden fingers drift over pale skin, his own fingers nimbly undoing the multiple buckles of Yami's own shirt until that golden expanse of flesh was exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Great Isis preserve me," he whispered, leaning in the lay a kiss at the fluttering pulse at the base of Yami's neck. "You truly are a god made flesh."

Yami bit back a moan as soft lips descended his torso, lighting on the nubs of his pectorals to nip and lick until they were hardened peaks of flesh. His fingers dug lightly into the pale shoulders as his body arched into the contact, feeling pale hands settle on his hips to hold him steady now that there was no wall behind them on which to prop himself upright. He hissed in surprise as those hands moved to undo his pants, sliding the skin-tight leather over his heated flesh and caressing the exposed golden skin before he bucked forward, a shout of pleasure escaping his throat as Bakura's warm mouth found him, hard and ready.

"Beautiful," the thief whispered, dragging his tongue over the rigid flesh lovingly before pausing to gently bite at the tip. The violent shiver that went through the man in his arms caused a warm sensation of pride to filter through him . . . had anyone seen this side of Yami beside himself? Had anyone ever been able to cause this kind of out-of-control reaction in the calm, self-confident Pharaoh? But it wasn't enough . . . he wanted more.

Yami dropped to his knees, unable to stand as Bakura released him, his breath coming in sharp pants as he raised glazed crimson eyes to the pale man before him. The fire in his stomach burned all the hotter as he watched the former thief slide charcoal grey dress slacks over trim, narrow hips, revealing the rest of that toned body to his burning gaze.

The only thing he could equate Bakura to in that instant was a living work of art . . . one that he wanted nothing more than to admire for the rest of eternity. Or, even more preferable, feel underneath his hands.

"I need you . . ." he whispered unconsciously, staring up into the red-brown eyes desperately. "Bakura . . ."

"You have me, my Pharaoh," Bakura responded. He advanced upon the kneeling man like a predator, a light push sending Yami sprawling onto his back before the former thief knelt down between his legs, taking him in one pale hand and pumping gently. Yami groaned, crimson eyes closing as the delicious sensations shot through him, arching upward into that touch wantonly.

Bakura smiled at the reaction, reaching upwards to smooth his fingers over the parted lips, feeling the heaving breaths against the over-sensitized pads. He moaned softly when Yami's tongue flicked out to lick at them, twining around them enticingly before the Pharaoh leaned up to take them into his mouth, mimicking making love to them with his mouth as violent tingles ran up the pale arm, straight to Bakura's groin.

Removing his fingers from that delicious stimulation, continuing to play with Yami as he trailed them over the golden skin, he shifted slightly, reaching between them to prepare the body beneath him for what was to come.

The first finger caused a slight hiss of pain, the garnet eyes opening to stare up at him through slits

"I'm sorry," he whispered, before Yami reached up and lay a golden finger against his lips.

"Just do it," Yami moaned, feeling the second finger join the first in stretching him. "I won't break . . . I've waited too long for this." Bakura looked at him in concern, and he nodded before shifting his hips impatiently. "Do it," he commanded. The thief smiled slightly.

"As my Pharaoh commands," he murmured. Removing his fingers, he spat into his hand before coating himself with his saliva, wanting to make the coming pain as minimal as possible. Maneuvering himself until he was poised at the tight rosebud entrance, he leaned down to take Yami's lips in a hungry, dominating kiss, distracting him as much as possible before pushing forward. He felt the golden body beneath him buck at the intrusion, Yami tearing his mouth away with a gasp of pain as Bakura buried himself to the hilt.

Bakura was startled to see the glisten of tears at the corners of the tightly closed eyes, and leaned down to lick them away gently, trying to comfort his lover as much as possible. Seeing Yami in pain brought a strange twinge to his chest, and he reached down to caress one golden cheek lovingly until the crimson eyes opened again, pain still glittering in their depths.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. Yami nodded, turning his head to lay a feather-light kiss against the pale palm. Bakura shivered at the touch, the reaction causing him to move against the body beneath his. Yami groaned softly, feeling Bakura shift within him.

"Move," he murmured, pushing up against the pale form. "Please . . . don't make me wait." He gasped as Bakura did as he requested, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, brushing against certain areas. "Oh Ra . . . Bakura, please . . ." he moaned.

They quickly established a rhythm between them, and moans and gasps of pleasure were torn from both throats as they moved in a dance older than they themselves were.

"Yami . . ." Bakura groaned, feeling the golden body beneath him tightening with the coming release. "Oh Ra . . . Pharaoh . . ."

"Harder," Yami whispered, pulling him down into a bruising kiss. "Don't . . . be gentle. It's not like you." Bakura smirked slightly before slamming into him, watching as Yami's eyes rolled back in his head at the exquisite pleasure/pain that accompanied the movement. He did it again, and again, enjoying the tightening coil of muscle as Yami approached the edge of his passion, feeling his own muscles tensing along with those of his love's.

Suddenly, Yami bucked against him, a howl of completion tearing from the golden throat as liquid warmth splashed between them. Caught off guard, Bakura shuddered as the body around him tightened deliciously, sending him over the edge of his own passions as he came with a guttural cry of release. Unable to remain upright, he collapsed, his head resting on the rapidly heaving golden chest of Yami as he lay there, a feeling of utter completion and rightness sweeping through him.

'So this is what it's like,' he thought to himself, 'To make love to someone you hold dear.' Spent both emotionally and physically, he drifted into slumber, lulled to sleep by the steady thrum of the heart beneath him.

Unconscious, he never felt Yami shift beneath him, sliding out from under him and sniffing slightly before growling.

"Drunk," Yami murmured, his heart in his throat as he shoved himself to his feet, swaying slightly as heartache ripped through him. He and Bakura had sex . . . and the thief was drunk. He bit back a sob, staring down at the pale body with his heart shattering in his eyes.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, he'd let himself believe that Bakura loved him, and that they were making love, not fucking.

"You're a fool, Yami," he whispered to himself. "And you just proved it." Gathering his clothes, wincing slightly as pain shot up his spine from his abused posterior, he disappeared from the Shadow Realm, leaving behind his lover . . . and his shattered, broken heart.


	10. On the Tenth Day Of Christmas Ten Mutte...

Disclaimer – Still don't own them . . . but I will soon wield the Millennium Ring! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Author's Notes – Here's another chapter for you all . . . and some review responses.

MarikIshtar77 – hehe, no, I don't think Bakura would mind the age . . . I'm still 4000 some odd years younger than he is grin Now, if only I could conjure him up . . .

Lilmatchgirl007 – it's the trust issues with Bakura, and the fact that he's still struggling to believe he could fall in love with someone who's been his enemy for five thousand years. As for me . . . gee, you couldn't tell? grin

NekoAi – Torturing the audience? Who me? grins Yes, I love doing that, I must admit. It keeps people reading : ) Of course, torturing my fav. characters is much more fun.

Helix1047 – Redemption right now is being somewhat stubborn, but I am slowly typing out pieces of it. It's a case of too many story ideas floating around in my head. I'm trying to clear them all out as much as I can. As for Grav . . . I wanted to make a ahem less graphic version for those innocent readers who can't read graphic sex on this site. All my fics end up on my website at some point.

Kasugai gummie – I agree, I did slip with the characterizations a bit in the last chapter. It was frustrating, but I couldn't seem to get them to come out any other way. Pacing did seem a little choppier than usual for me as well, but I was very distracted while writing (three kids tend to do that to a person). I'm glad you liked it anyway.

To everyone else who reviewed – Thank you for putting up with my nasty cliff-hanger habit. Hope you all continue to enjoy the story, and if you're bored, you can always go check out my other fics : ) I also write InuYasha and some FFVII stuff, all of which can be found on this site or my personal website. See my profile : )

And now, on with the story. Two more chapters left . . . plenty of time for them to pull their heads out of their asses, ne?

Chapter 10 – On the Tenth Day of Christmas – Ten Muttered Curses

Bakura awoke, cold and huddled into a ball, in the Shadow Realm. For a moment, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there, nor why he was naked in the first place. The pounding in his head told him he'd imbibed too much alcohol again . . . but even under the influence, he'd never managed to wake up in the Shadow Realm, of all places.

The tight pull of skin across his chest as he moved to stand was the first clue. He ran his fingers over the pale skin, flakes of snowy 'stuff' falling away with the touch. What in the . . .? The briefest scent of the desert and sandalwood drifted to him, and his eyes shot open wide as his memory came flooding back to him . . . bringing with it an even worse headache as well as the desire to suddenly be sick.

"Yami . . ." he whispered. He glanced around, confused. He remembered everything now, and the one thing that he remembered most clearly was falling asleep with the Pharaoh as a pillow and a bed warmer. Where had the Pharaoh gone? And why had he left in the first place? Unless . . . red-brown eyes widened in shock and horror as a thought came to him. What if Yami had smelled the alcohol on his breath . . . and thought that Bakura's actions were due to the drink alone?

"Oh shit," he muttered, his heart in his throat as he gathered up his clothes and threw them on hastily before stepping out of the Shadow Realm. It was morning in the real world, and the hallways of the complex in which the party had been held were long deserted and silent in the early dawn light. He slipped through them and out the doors easily, heading toward the Game Shop. He needed to see Yami and explain that last night wasn't just the tequila.

Dark? 'Kura? Where are you? Ryou sounded exasperated with him . . . which meant he'd been out of contact.

I'm here, hikari, he replied, still stalking towards the store where Yugi and Yami lived. Nothing was going to stop him from doing this . . . to hell with his nerves and his fear of getting hurt. He'd done enough to Yami that he'd never be able to repay.

There you are! Cripes, you've been out of contact for hours! I'd begun to worry that both of you had gone missing! Bakura's heart skipped a beat and he stopped in his tracks, tuning in more clearly on what Ryou was saying.

What do you mean, 'both of us'? he asked, suddenly wary. His heart pounded painfully, and he hoped desperately that Ryou wouldn't tell him what he was afraid to hear.

Yami's missing . . . is he with you? Ryou asked. Yugi called this morning and said he'd found the Puzzle in Yami's bedroom on the bed . . . but that he hasn't seen the Pharaoh since last night, when you went out after him. There was a pause before the boy continued. Did something happen between the two of you?

You could say that, he returned, quickening his steps after redirecting his route to take him home. I'll tell you when I get there . . . I need a warm shower and warmer clothes. I'm going after him. This was his fault . . . damn him and his need for liquid courage! He'd gotten what he'd most desired . . . and had gone about it the totally wrong way, as usual. He only hoped . . . that Yami would listen when and if he found him again.

----------------------------

"Anubis take me!" he snarled, pacing the living room a few hours later. After a shower and changing, he'd planned on going straight out the door . . . only to be stopped by Ryou. A grueling question and answer session had followed, and in the end, he'd gotten exactly what he deserved, although from a completely different person. Ryou had actually slapped him.

Now he was trapped in the house while the rest of the group hunted the city for Yami. He'd tried to explain to Ryou that it had been a mistake, that he hadn't done that to Yami because he was drunk, and even his hikari hadn't wanted to listen to him. So here he was, stalking around the house, calling himself every name and laying every curse he could think of on his head for being so utterly and completely stupid. He couldn't leave and start his own hunt for his love . . . if he did and the others came back, he would be proving that his motives were less than pure about this, as everyone already suspected. There were few times in his life that he thoroughly regretted his image as a heartless tomb robber . . . this was one of them.

He'd thought about using his Shadow Magic to track the missing Pharaoh down, but it would have been a wasted effort, and he knew it. Yami would be shielding from that kind of thing at this point. Damn it, but he wanted to go find the man and explain everything . . . or in the more literary sense, pour his heart out onto the floor for Yami to step on. He was sure that was what was coming . . . it was what he deserved after all.

He flopped onto the couch, leaning over to place his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his bent knees as he stared at the floor. Ra help him, he needed to find Yami. This pain wasn't one he could simply ignore and hope would go away. He literally felt physically ill . . . worse even than the sickness he'd gotten after being trapped in that pine tree. His heart felt like a leaden weight in his chest. It hurt to even breathe at this point.

Bakura desperately hoped that the others found Yami . . . and soon. Before he did something on his own to end this pain.

---------------------------

Yami huddled in an empty warehouse near the docks, crimson eyes staring blankly before him, his arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his raised knees.

How had it come to this? How had he been so stupid? This wasn't like him . . .he wasn't weak like this. Love apparently did strange things to one, made one act totally out of character and beyond the normal boundaries that one built around one's soul. Rather than hiding, he should have been out there, living this new life to it's fullest and enjoying his friends and their antics. Instead, he'd fled from all of them, unwilling to let them see this glaring weakness in his eternal armor. He'd even cut off Yugi . . . something he'd never thought he would do, ever.

He'd had everything he'd wanted, only to have it snatched brutally away from him by the truth. Bakura had been drunk. He should have known it before it went as far as it had, but he'd allowed his hopes and dreams to blind him to that glaringly obvious fact.

King of Games was his title, but when it came to games of the heart perhaps he was not the master after all. That's he'd been that foolish and blind did not sit well with him . . . and the fact that he still held some small gem of hope within him did not help that feeling. How could he possibly still hope that Bakura loved him after what had happened last night.

Images flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block them out. He'd been so tender . . . so giving and warm! How could that have been a lie? Was the thief really that great an actor that he'd even managed to fool the King of Games? Or had he jumped to conclusions that had cost him the very thing he sought to gain?

Ra damn him, this uncertainty was not him! What, by all the gods, was wrong with him? Left adrift on the roiling sea of his own turbulent and confusing emotions, he struggled to find something – anything to latch on to, to stabilize himself and his mind. His link with Yugi was there, waiting for him to open it up . . . but he didn't want to. Yugi and Joey's relationship had just begun . . . he didn't want to taint that newly formed jewel with his problems.

He'd lost track of time sitting here in the dark, and he knew that the others would be worried about him. Strangely, he couldn't summon up the will to move. It was as if his body had simply stopped responding to him. Perhaps it was because of the conflict within him . . . on one hand, he wanted to return to the warmth and comfort of his aibou and their friends, on the other he wanted to hunt down the Tomb Robber and demand an explanation for the previous night.

That shadow of despair and pain still lingered however, and he would not let that drag Yugi down into the depths with him. So he stayed away, curling even further into a ball as the night outside deepened, and wished that the turmoil within him would simply end.

Slowly, he became feverish as his temperature dropped farther and farther, reacting to the cold that was enveloping the warehouse he'd stashed himself. Freezing and hallucinating badly, Yami stood shakily and wandered away . . . towards home.

----------------------------

"Yami?" Yugi called as he walked into the house they shared with his absent grandfather. The strange, eerie emptiness seemed to mock him with its silence . . . it had never felt so lonely and less like home when Yami was with him. He wandered the silent house sadly . . . until he arrived upstairs and found the bathroom light on. He was sure it had been off when he'd left with the others. He scrambled down the hallway, hoping he would find his other there, safe and unharmed.

He got part of his wish . . . Yami was collapsed in a bathtub full of water, fully clothed. He was still shivering uncontrollably, his eyes rolled back in his head as visions flickered before the dulled crimson eyes. Yugi slid across the slightly wet tiled floor, falling to his knees beside his water logged dark and reaching out to take hold of one golden hand. He winced at how cold Yami's flesh was, and then checked the water. It was hot . . . so hot that he pulled his hand back sharply and frowned at it before glancing at his dark again. His hand shouldn't have been so cold in this hot of water . . . He reached up and lay the back of his hand across Yami's forehead, pulling back with a his as he felt the raging fever that was consuming his other.

He scrabbled to his feet and rushed to his room for the phone, dialing Joey's number hurriedly.

"Joey!" he said, before the blonde could even get a word out. "I need you to come over here, right away! It's Yami . . . he's here, but he's in bad shape!"

"I'm on my way," the blonde said, and hung up. Yugi dialed the rest of his friends to let them know that Yami was at least home . . . safe, however, remained to be seen.

----------------------------

It was nearing nine when Ryou finally came through the door to the house. Bakura was on his feet in an instant, his bone weary body staggering slightly as he jerked it upright through sheer will alone. He'd spent the last half-dozen hours in a near constant state of worry and despair, something that he would have been disgusted with if he had been himself and not this emotional wreck.

"Did you find him?" he croaked, red-brown eyes staring into his hikari's back desperately as the boy kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket. He flinched when the usually warm chocolate eyes turned on him . . . they were nothing more than frozen chunks of mud at this point.

"No, we did not," Ryou said. He studied his dark carefully, noting the weary slant of shoulder and the pain filled eyes that stared at him. He tilted his head to one side consideringly . . . if Bakura had truly been playing a game with Yami, he wouldn't have looked so concerned. "Bakura . . . do you really care? Or are you just this good of an actor?" He got one moment of stunned disbelief out his dark before the mask came down, and the Tomb Robber stood in front of him again.

"You didn't believe me last time, why should you believe me now?" he growled, spinning away to stalk back into the living room. Unfortunately, his balance was not what it usually was, and he staggered into one wall, catching himself with one hand before he fell against it wholly. That, more than anything, spoke volumes to the young hikari about the state his dark was in, and the frozen mud bled back into warm chocolate as he moved to help the slightly taller man.

"I believe you now, 'Kura," Ryou murmured, sliding a careful arm around his dark's waist. "It's just . . . well, it was so hard to believe, and it happened so fast . . . you really do love the Pharaoh." Bakura sighed, an involuntary nod escaping him as Ryou helped him to the couch, where he sank into it's depths wearily.

"Yes, I love him," he whispered, staring at his hands as they lay in his lap. "I love him, and I've made a complete mess of things by letting my pride get in the way and not just saying it straight out. Now I've driven him away . . . where is he, Ryou? Where the hell has he gone? I need to make this right . . ."

Ryou moved to hug him, and jumped slightly before giggling at himself when the phone rang. He answered it, his body growing more tense with each word that the other person said before hanging up the phone. He turned to Bakura, only to find that his dark had passed out. Smiling softly at the involuntary show of weakness . . . Bakura would never forgive himself for it, if he found out . . . Ryou leaned down and arranged the lean body into a more comfortable position before pulling the afghan off the back of the couch and tucking it around his yami.

Telling him that Yami had been found would have to wait.

----------------------------

Yugi sighed in relief as Joey stepped through the door in the kitchen, giving his boyfriend a hug before leading the way up to the bathroom.

Joey stopped in the doorway at the sight of Yami . . . Yugi had managed to get his clothes off, covering his dark modestly with a washcloth before leaving him to sit. He'd continually changed the water as it got cooler . . . by now Yami had stopped shivering as violently, but his skin temperature was still much cooler than it should have been, and Yugi could not move him by himself.

"He's in very bad shape, Yug," Joey murmured, before stalking across the towel covered tiles to kneel beside the prone, unconscious Pharaoh. "We need to get him out of this tub and into a bed. Your grandfather has an electric blanket, right?" Yugi nodded. "Bring it, and every blanket you have, to your room. We'll set up a nest on the floor . . . it's the only thing that will be big enough to hold all three of us." Yugi looked at him askance for a moment before going to do as he'd been told, leaving his dark in the blonde's capable hands.

Joey grabbed a couple of dry towels before stripping himself down to nothing in order to lift Yami from the tub. Cradling the slim, lithe form in one arm, tucking it against his body carefully, he wrapped the towels around the golden body before stalking to Yugi's room. His love had already begun setting up all the blankets . . . a thick layer of them covered one corner of his room, near the heating vent. He lay Yami down on the bed, briskly rubbing the former Pharaoh with the towels to dry him before bringing him over to the forming nest and depositing him in it, quickly helping Yugi arrange the rest of the blankets, and plugging in the electric one before sliding under them and pulling the golden form in close, almost to the point of spooning him.

"Yugi, strip and get in on the other side . . . . between the two of us and the blankets, we should be able to get his core temperature back up. Wait . . . on second thought, get some water and some liquid fever reducer while you're at it." Yugi left, returning moments later with all the requested items. He watched as Joey forced some of the medicine and the water down his dark's throat before asking his questions.

"Joey . . . why are we getting naked and into a bed with Yami?" he asked, slightly embarrassed by the thought. Yes, he was comfortable around his dark, but he'd also been attracted to him for a very long time, and having his dark and his new boyfriend naked in bed with him was beyond temptation, as far as he was concerned.

"Yugi . . . Yami has hypothermia. Skin contact is best in this kind of scenario, unless we take him to the hospital. And we can't do that. We're all he's got, Yug . . . now get in here!" Put that way, Yugi stopped worrying about the impropriety of it all and stripped down to his birthday suit before sliding in behind his dark, pressing his own pale, warm flesh against the golden back and tucking his knees in so that the entire line of their bodies was pressed tightly together.

"Will he be okay, Joey?" he asked quietly, nuzzling into the back of his dark's neck lovingly. He heard Joey sigh in the darkness.

"I don't know, Yugi," he whispered. "I really don't know."

----------------------------

Yugi awoke several hours later to the abrupt movement of a body next to his. The brush of bare skin caused him to flush before he remembered exactly why they were all bare. He raised his hand to flick on his desk lamp, rising up on one elbow to look at his dark. The crimson eyes were still tightly closed, and the flush of fever still danced across the golden cheeks and proud brow, but his body temperature appeared to have even out.

"Bakura . . ." Yami moaned, tossing his head slightly. Yugi sighed, wrapping his arms around his dark in a gentle embrace as he snuggled back into the warm expanse of flesh that was Yami's back.

Ryou had told them all what had happened between Bakura and his other. At first, he'd been as angry as the rest, but once that anger had burned down a little, he'd really gotten to thinking about it. Yami had been so out of sorts here lately . . . this business with Bakura had thrown him for a loop, and he'd been off-balance and on edge ever since it had started. Could his dark have over-reacted? Yes, the fact that Bakura had been drinking was rather incriminating evidence against the thief . . . but from Yugi's rather limited experience with alcohol, being drunk usually only lowered a person inhibitions. He didn't think Bakura would have had sex with his dark unless he'd really wanted to do so in the first place.

If that was the case, then maybe the Tomb Robber really did love the Pharaoh, and just hadn't been able to make a move without a little help. Love did strange things to people, after all . . . the fact that Yami had been so emotional here lately was proof of that. That analytical mind that Yami prized so much seemed to have simply short circuited somewhere along the way.

Maybe it was time he stepped in and did something to help the two spirit's along. Sighing, he reached for the phone and dialed the number from memory, hoping he was doing the right thing.

-----------------------------

Bakura jumped as the phone rang, reaching for it blindly as he blinked the exhaustion away.

"What?" he snarled into the phone, the weariness in his voice making it hard for him to sound threatening, but he hated being awoken, especially at some ungodly hour.

"Bakura?" Yugi's voice came from the other end of the line. Bakura sat straight up, hope flickering across his face before he shut it down.

"Yes, Pharaoh's runt?" he growled, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. Was Yugi calling about Yami? Had the Pharaoh been found? "My hikari is asleep, and I don't feel like waking him. Leave a message . . . I'll make sure Ryou gets it." Yugi sighed.

"Actually," he murmured, "I called to talk with you." Bakura blinked in shock, sagging back against the couch cushions. Why the hell would Yugi want to speak with him?

"Why?" he said unconsciously, puzzlement evident in the question.

"Because I don't think that everyone is right about what happened last night," Yugi replied quietly. "I do think you had been drinking . . . but I don't think that's the only reason you had sex with my yami. I think you've come to love him as much as he's fallen in love with you, and that's the real reason why you moved on him last night. You drank to help you make your move on him, and Yami over-reacted."

Bakura sighed, shifting against the couch cushions as he relaxed. Finally, someone believed him other than his light. But if Yugi believed him, why was the Pharaoh's light calling him? Unless . . .

"Have you found Yami?" he asked, trying to keep the desperate hope out of his voice.

"He's here, Bakura," Yugi said. A long sigh escaped the thief's lips before he heard the underlying concern in the lights voice. "But he's . . . well, he's not in very good condition. When I got home, he was in the tub with hypothermia. We've managed to take care of that, but he's still running a high fever. I'm . . . worried about him." He sighed. "He's been really off-balance since this all started, and I've never seen him like this. The two of you need to talk this out . . . but I'm afraid for him. With how emotionally unstable he's been lately, he may not try to fight this off."

Bakura ran a pale hand through his snowy locks, red-brown eyes closing at the pain in the other's voice. While usually he wouldn't have cared, in this case he was talking to the person Yami held most dear, which meant he had to care.

"Should I come over?" he asked, dreading the answer. He wanted to go . . . wanted to be by Yami's side, but at the same time he was afraid. He hated to admit that, even to himself, but after last night . . . would Yami even want to see him when and if he awoke?

"Not tonight," Yugi replied quietly. "Get a solid night's sleep . . . and come over in the morning with Ryou. I think . . . that it will help, if you're here."

Bakura sighed and agreed quietly before hanging up the phone. Lying down on the couch again, he stared at the ceiling. What exactly would he say to Yami when the Pharaoh awoke? 'I'm sorry' simply wouldn't cut it.

Frowning, he determined that he would cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he would take Yugi's advice and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning would come faster if he did . . . and hopefully he would find the answers he was looking for in his dreams.

'Two days until Christmas,' he thought wryly. 'I could use a really good Christmas present at the moment.'


	11. On the Eleventh Day of Christmas – Eleve...

Disclaimer – If I owned them, do you honestly think I would be writing this? frowns at Bakura as he growls Fine, fine . . . geesh, picky muse. I do not own YuGiOh, any of its characters, nor any of the wonderful world that Kazuki Takahashi created. I merely play in it. I'm not making any money on this, I'm merely doing it for other people's enjoyment and my own perverse pleasure. glances at her beloved Tomb Robber There, you happy now?!

Author's Notes – You know, I have to wonder . . . is it a bad thing to stay up until 2am finishing a chapter for you people so that you don't come after me with sharp knifes and torches?

Bakura – You'd enjoy that, and you know it.

Drac – shut up, thief. They don't need to know that. returns to readers Anyway . . . ignore him. He's grouchy cause it took so long for him to get somewhere. As I was saying, I suppose it can't be all that bad for me to forego sleep in order to write . . . this late at night, it's the only time I can really write and be able to fully concentrate on it. My hubby is safely tucked away where he can't try to read over my shoulder, and all my little hellions are out like little lightbulbs. Gods, it's no wonder I'm a night owl.

So . . . one chapter to go. You'll just have to read this chapter to see if Yami and Bakura have pulled their heads out of their asses, now won't you? chuckles demonically while rubbing hands together So read away . . . and don't forget to review.

Oh, and as of this moment, I am starting a fanlist. If you would like regular updates of what I'm working on (which is about five different stories) or would like to make requests of me, or challenge me to something, make sure I have your email and tell me you want in. I'll be glad to add you.

And now, on with the torture! Umm . . . I mean . . . yeah, just go read! pounces on Bakura And now, you damn ignorant ass, you need a lesson . . . drags Bakura off to her dungeon

Chapter 11 – On the Eleventh Day of Christmas – Eleven Eternal Seconds

The next morning arrived at the Motou house, accompanied by the rapping of knuckles on the kitchen door. Joey awoke with a shudder, hearing the violent pounding and swearing softly before rising and sliding into his boxers, making sure neither of his bed mates awoke.

Yami, while a bit warmer, still shuddered every now and then in his sleep, the golden skin still slightly flushed with fever. Yugi was completely unconscious, cuddled up tightly to his dark's back as if he would press himself through the satin skin of his other.

Padding out of the room and down the stairs, he stalked to the kitchen door and threw it open, amber eyes widening in surprise when he beheld Ryou and Bakura standing there.

"Good morning, Joey. How is Yami?" Ryou asked quietly as the two white haired men stepped into the kitchen as Joey stepped back.

"He's been better," Joey muttered, eyeing Bakura with a great deal of disfavor. If Bakura had been in a livelier mood, he might have torn the blonde's throat out for that look, but at the moment his mind was on other things, so he settled for a glare and a snarl before taking off his coat and shoes.

Preoccupied with the thief, Joey jumped slightly when he felt a light touch on his arm. He glanced down at Ryou, who simply shook his head silently, telling Joey without words to leave it alone.

"What brings the two of you over so early in the morning?" the blonde asked instead, directing his question to Ryou. He was somewhat startled when it was the darker half that answered.

"Yugi called last night and told us to come over," the thief growled. "So here we are. Where is the Pharaoh's hikari, by the way?" Joey glanced at him, amber eyes darkening slightly with anger before answering.

"With his dark. We had to sleep with him to keep his core temperature up last night." He gave an inner smile of satisfaction as his barb hit home, the thief's eyes widening slightly before they narrowed into slits of jealousy and anger. "He's still not in the safe zone yet . . . I should get back up there . . ." He allowed the smile to show through when Bakura snarled at him before stalking off, presumably to go upstairs himself.

"You shouldn't bait him like that, Joey," Ryou murmured, sinking into a chair. "He's not exactly in the most stable of moods."

"He's the one that caused this shit," the amber eyed teenager replied harshly. "He deserves whatever he gets." Ryou sighed, shaking his head slightly at the taller youth's vehemence.

"Trust me Joey . . . anything you do or say to him right now can't even begin to touch him compared to the shit he's been heaping on himself since yesterday," Ryou said quietly. "We . . . were wrong about what happened. He didn't use Yami . . . rather, he drank so he would have the courage to make his move. He really does love Yami."

"Couldn't prove it by me," Joey snapped back, settling into his own chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "If he loved him, he would have done things differently." Ryou's eyes widened, the chocolate gaze going over his shoulder in shock just before Joey stiffened, the glint of a knife out of the corner of one eye barely giving him warning before he found the cold metal at his throat.

"I don't have to prove it to you, Wheeler," Bakura snarled in his ear menacingly. "I fully realize I should have done things differently . . . I don't need a cocky, idiotic mutt like you telling me that. Just because you've gotten everything you've desired by acquiring Yugi doesn't make you an expert in love. Especially when it's between me and the Pharaoh." The knife pressed in threateningly, the pale knuckles even whiter around the grip as Bakura fought against his desire to kill the blonde for his ignorance and assumption.

Who was Wheeler to judge him? Who were any of them to judge him, for that matter? He knew he'd made a mess of things . . . he was the one that had to bear the pain of that, he and Yami. The mutt had no right to pass judgment on him . . . none of them did. He was tired of being the bad guy in this . . . yes, his reputation deserved it, but Ra damn it! Even he was human, as much as he liked to hide that fact. He made mistakes just like everyone else, not that he would ever admit it to anyone but Yami. This had been his biggest mistake yet, and he only hoped Yami would allow him to fix it.

"Bakura . . . this isn't helping anything," Ryou murmured, trying to calm the murderous rage in his dark's red eyes. He'd warned Joey . . . although he had to admit, he could have sworn his dark was out of hearing range. "You should go check on Yami . . . see if Yugi is awake yet or if he needs anything."

With a soft snarl and a last warning press of the blade against Joey's neck, Bakura moved away, this time fully intending to go upstairs and check on his love. He left behind a shaking Joey and a surprisingly calm hikari, who merely shook his head at the blonde as Joey fingered his throat with something akin to relief.

"I did warn you, Joey," he murmured.

Bakura stalked up the stairs, rage still seething within him as he sheathed the knife under the back of his shirt. He'd wanted to kill Wheeler . . . wanted it so much he could still taste the blood and fear on his tongue. He was so tired of being judged . . . but the biggest judgment still lay before him. Would Yami forgive him his stupidity?

Padding quietly into the room, he stopped just over the doorway, his eyes dimming slightly as he took in Yami's shivering frame. Yugi was pressing tightly to his dark, pale arms wrapped around the slim, shaking golden form as if to force his own warmth into the man, even in his sleep.

Joey had said they had slept with Yami to keep his temperature up . . . the loss of the blonde's warmth must have cause a slight relapse. With barely a second thought, Bakura stripped out of his own clothing and slid into the blankets, shifting until the length of his body was pressed against that of his love's. The feel of that golden skin against him brought back the hazy memories of two nights previous, bringing them into sharper focus with the reminder of that smooth flesh and muscular form. He sighed slightly, watching the aquiline features from barely an inch away, wishing the crimson eyes would open and look at him, yet dreading it at the same time.

What would Yami say? What would he say to Yami? Ra, he'd gotten himself into one hell of a mess this time. This was worse than the time he'd raided Yami's father's tomb! He flushed as he remembered that particular incident . . . that was one memory of his past in Egypt that he NEVER intended to share with his love. It was too embarrassing by far.

A deeper sigh escaped his lips, this one of relaxation as he felt Yami's shudders slow and come to a stop after several minutes. He lay his lips gently against that burning forehead, frowning slightly at the warmth. The Pharaoh was too warm with fever, yet too chill with hypothermia still in his system. Wasn't there any way to cool the fever without doing damage to his hypothermia wracked body? He was sorely lacking knowledge in this . . . hypothermia was not exactly something he'd had to deal with in his past life.

Shifting closer to the sleeping Pharaoh, he let his eyes run over the beautiful features before his hand crept up to run the pads of his fingers over the soft lips and high, arching cheekbones. Silently, he did something he thought he would never do. He prayed. He prayed to Horus for wisdom, and to Ra for strength. He suspected he would need both if he was to untangle this snarled knot of misunderstanding between the Pharaoh and himself.

Closing his eyes, he determined to memorize as much of this brief peaceful time as he could. It could be all he would ever get, and he wanted something to take with him when it all came crashing down.

----------------------------

Yugi shifted restlessly before the amethyst eyes opened, staring at identical tri-colored hair for a moment hazily before his gaze sharpened at a glimpse of white hair just over his dark's shoulder. Rising up on one elbow, he smiled when he found that those snowy locks belonged to a certain Tomb Robber, who appeared to be unconscious. Bakura was also pressed as tightly against Yami as Yugi was, with the single difference that one pale hand lay directly pressed against his dark's chest, over his heart.

Turning his gaze to the clock, he was not surprised to find that it was nearly afternoon. His night had not been an easy one . . . getting Yami's core temperature up had been no easy task, even with Joey to help him, and that fever still worried him. However, when he lay his hand over his dark's forehead, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the heat from that golden skin had diminished somewhat. Apparently the fever was now going down, which was nothing short of a miracle.

Sliding out of the blankets, Yugi tucked them in firmly around the sleeping pair and tweaked the thermostat on the electric blanket a bit to compensate for the loss of his body warmth. He quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt, pulling on a pair of socks before padding out the door and making his way to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find Ryou seated at the table, a cup of Earl Grey tea clasped in his pale hands, while Joey dug through the fridge. He smiled and shook his head at his boyfriend before settling at the table next to Ryou.

"Joey, do you ever stop eating?" he asked, and chuckled slightly when the blonde jumped, then bit out a curse when his head connected with the freezer's handle.

"Damn, Yug, don't sneak up on a guy like that!" he said, pulling out of the fridge and rubbing his head as he shut the door and turned to look at his love. Ryou laughed lightly, shaking his head so that the white hair drifted around his face for a moment.

"Bakura is up with Yami, I take it?" the white haired hikari asked quietly. Yugi nodded.

"Yes . . . I tweaked the electric blanket a bit so they won't miss my warmth. I just hope Yami doesn't wake up and freak when he sees Bakura beside him . . . after what happened, I'm not sure that he won't. But they've got to work this out."

Ryou nodded as Joey leaned down to lay a gentle kiss on Yugi's lips, which he'd raised when his boyfriend's hand had landed on his shoulder. Yugi sighed happily into it, but the amethyst eyes were dark with worry when the taller man pulled away.

"What is it, Yugi?" Joey asked quietly, seeing the concern. Yugi sighed, and shifted uneasily in his seat.

"What if . . . Yami doesn't recover from this? I've never seen him this sick . . . what if he doesn't want to recover?" Joey lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he reached up to twine his fingers loosely with his loves. "I'm worried, guys. He's a spirit . . . getting sick is one thing, but getting this sick? I just don't know what to expect."

Ryou reached across the table as a worried silence overlaid the room, resting on gentle hand on Yugi's arm.

"He'll be fine, Yugi," the young Brit murmured. "Bakura won't let him go that easily . . . not now."

"I hope you're right, Ryou," Yugi whispered. "I really hope you're right."

----------------------------

A sudden shift in movement from Yami awoke Bakura in an instant, and he rose up on one elbow to stare down at the unconscious Pharaoh, who was currently burrowing further into his embrace. Smiling slightly and shaking his head . . . he would never have believed Yami to be a cuddly person . . . he ran his fingers through the tri-colored hair softly, admiring the multi-colored strands as they flowed through his fingers like silk.

How or why this love between the two of them had come about he still didn't know, and at this point he no longer really cared. He wasn't going to look a gift camel in the mouth. He had fallen in love with the one person in the entire world that could understand him . . . all of him. There would be no jealousy issues with Ryou, nor Yugi, no worries about the connection . . . and no worries about death.

Being immortal, as he suspected they were now, truly would have it's benefits . . . he had an eternity to make up for everything he'd ever done to Yami. If only Yami would let him. That last thought brought his happy musings to a rather dismal close.

"Yami," he whispered, needing to speak it out loud, if only to practice for when the Pharaoh truly did awaken from this horrible unconsciousness. "Forgive me for being such a jackass. I've made every wrong step that was possible with this, and I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. Being drunk for our first time was an unforgivable sin. My only excuse is that I couldn't gather up the courage to do it otherwise. I truly meant to come talk to you . . . things just went too far." He hiccupped suddenly, one pale hand rising to his face. He was surprised to find tears slowly tracking down his face . . . he would have sworn he'd lost the ability to cry long ago.

"Please . . . forgive me," he choked out. "Come back to me. I don't want to go through this existence alone." His voice broke on the last sentence, and he sobbed suddenly before burying his head in the soft locks of hair, holding onto the body in his arms for dear life.

Yami lay quiet within the pale man's embrace, Bakura's heartbeat thundering in his ears, echoing his own. He'd been awake for several minutes now, although it had taken him a bit to discover exactly who's arms he was currently residing in. He knew he'd been sick . . . he still felt the weakness in his limbs, the bone-deep weariness of his body a telling sign that he'd caused it some serious problems with his antics.

To be honest, he couldn't even clearly remember how he'd gotten here. His last clear memory, before this moment, was of the warehouse and his own spiraling thoughts. He had a hazy recollection of wandering the streets, and at some point he'd drawn a hot bath in an attempt to retrieve his fled warmth . . . but after that, there was a gaping hole that was uncomfortably similar to that of his missing memories of Egypt.

Awaking to find Bakura holding him had been something of a shock, but the deepest shock had come when Bakura had begun speaking. It was all he could do to hold still in the face of that heartfelt and despairing speech, but somehow he managed to stay unmoving, fighting off the sleep that threatened to pull him back under. Feeling the shudders passing through that pale body, hearing the deep, choked sobs, he could only wonder at the sudden turn around of his former enemy.

This was too real, too emotional to be an act. He tried to gather the energy to move, to reach up and comfort his love, to let Bakura know he was awake, but sleep chose to gather him in her gentle arms again.

The last thing he heard as he sank back into the depths of slumber was the whispered confession of a breaking heart.

"I love you, my Pharaoh."

'I love you too, my thief,' he thought, just before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

----------------------------

Yami awoke later in the evening, crimson eyes blinking open blearily to stare at the ceiling in bewilderment. After a moment, he turned his head, seeking confirmation that the earlier episode of consciousness hadn't been simply a dreaming fragment of his fevered mind, and smiled as his eyes came to rest on the slumbering form of the Tomb Robber. Golden fingertips reached out, lightly tracing the tracks of tears across the pale skin, and he sighed as his heart expanded with the confirmation that it hadn't been a mere delusion.

Bakura loved him. How and why it had come to pass, he didn't really care, but he silently thanked whatever gods had chosen to intervene as he rolled onto his side and managed to prop himself up on one elbow, staring down at the beloved face tenderly.

There was noise downstairs . . . from the sounds of it, the friends had gathered for the planned Christmas Eve party, although it was much more subdued that normal, probably due to his illness. That was fine, however . . . he had no intention of making an appearance this evening anyway. He had his own celebration in mind.

Smirking slightly, he wormed his way under the blankets, fingers drawing light patterns over pale flesh as he gazed at the form of his beloved thief. That Bakura was muscular came as no surprise, but there were marks on the firm, otherwise smooth skin that puzzled him. Scars, even paler than the surrounding flesh, stood out in several places, and he drew his fingers over them gently, considering them. They appeared to be knife wounds . . . perhaps something the thief had carried forward with him from the past? Whatever they were, it didn't really matter to him . . . Bakura was still beautiful in his eyes, and the scars gave the lithe body character on an otherwise flawless canvas. If he was curious enough, perhaps he would ask later . . . for now, he had other plans, and he wasn't about to pause in playing his game.

Moving lower, he spied his objective and a smirk crossed the aquiline features. He nuzzled into the snowy curls that lay below Bakura's waistline, smile widening when the thief shifted restlessly and moaned.

"Time to wake, my thief," he murmured. "Your Pharaoh requires your attention." He chuckled lightly to himself before licking at the flesh, then blowing cool air over the now wet area. Bakura twitched, a louder moan escaping his throat as his flesh came to life with Yami's teasing.

Wrapping his lips around his target, he suckled lightly, one hand rising to hold the Tomb Robber's hips in place when he bucked slightly at the sudden warmth. Foreplay was something Yami enjoyed immensely . . . it made the end of the game much sweeter and more satisfying. Of course, this would only last until Bakura woke up . . . he wondered how deep a sleeper the former thief was, then shrugged and continued his ministrations. He'd find out soon enough, he supposed.

Red-brown eyes shot open as a wet warmth suddenly engulfed the former Tomb Robber, and Bakura stared up at the ceiling in confusion, mind clicking in slow motion as a groan was torn from his throat from the sparks shooting up his spine. If this was some sort of wet dream, he was going to be terribly disgusted with himself when he woke up. His head lolled to one side bonelessly as the damp heat moved on him, and his eyes widened as he noticed Yami was missing. He nearly scrambled to his feet, before he realized that his hips were pinned beneath warm hands, and the identification of what exactly was going on popped into his head.

Moving slowly, he lifted the blankets, and blinked stupidly, his mind working through a haze of lust as he spied exactly what Yami was currently doing to him.

"Yami . . ." he moaned, and then his head fell back as a particularly sensitive spot was nipped and licked teasingly, his hips struggling to rise into that wet heat for more attention. "Oh gods . . ." he choked out, before the sensation disappeared and the blankets moved of their own accord, Yami emerging from their depths with a rather satisfied grin on his face.

"You called, Bakura?" he whispered, struggling not to laugh at the bewildered and oh-so-kissable look on the thief's face. He squeaked slightly as he was pulled down into a brutal kiss, one that he returned whole-heartedly, although the self-satisfied smirk remained undiminished by the play. "Did you enjoy your wake up call?" he asked smugly as they pulled away from each other to breathe.

"Are you well?" Bakura replied quietly, one pale hand rising to push the blonde bangs back so he could feel the smooth forehead. There was a residual heat still residing there, but not something to be concerned about, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "You had me worried, Pharaoh," he growled, and then paused. "Yami . . . about the other night . . ." He stopped when one golden finger came to rest against his lips, Yami shaking his head slightly as the crimson eyes darkened.

"I already know," he murmured. He smiled slightly as the red-brown eyes widened. "I was awake . . . when you spoke to me earlier," he whispered. "I didn't have the energy to speak to you then, I tried to. But I did hear everything." He removed his finger, the crimson eyes warming with an inner flame as he gazed down at the pale man. "I understand why you were drinking . . . and I forgive you for it. I would not have had the courage to make the first move without help either. I should not have been so quick to jump to conclusions. Forgive me . . . I don't have an excuse for doubting you that way."

Bakura sighed, the tension in his frame leaving him just as suddenly as it had arrived with Yami's words.

"Thank the gods," he murmured, red-brown eyes closing with relief. They opened again as Yami lay a gentle kiss on his lips, lighter than a butterfly's wing.

"Indeed," he whispered in reply. "I love you, my thief. I don't know how, or why it happened, and frankly I no longer care. Just be with me. Let's start over . . . preferably on the correct, non-alcohol related foot, hmm?"

"I'm all for that, my Pharaoh," he said. He shifted uncomfortably, a grimace crossing his features. "If that's the case . . . could we kindly start over now? You're too damn good at teasing . . ." Yami smirked slightly, the crimson eyes lighting even further as he gazed down at the man he loved.

"Well . . ." he said, putting some hesitation into his voice. It was just too much fun to play games of this kind. There was a rather abrupt turnover in the game when Bakura grabbed him and rolled, coming up with the golden skinned figure now pinned underneath him.

"No 'well' about it, Yami," he growled playfully. Now that everything was out in the open, it felt like a great weight had lifted from his chest. Years of loneliness, pain, and anger seemed to simply melt away beneath the weight of that garnet gaze, warm with love and longing that he'd denied for far too long. "I love you too, my Pharaoh," he whispered against the upturned, smiling lips. "I may not say it very often, or very well, but never doubt that I do love you." With that said, he ground his hips into Yami's, swallowing the other dark's gasp of pleasure in a hungry, demanding kiss. The battle for dominance lasted until they had to pull back to breathe, pale skin sliding over golden flesh enticingly as they began to relearn each other's pleasure spots and weaknesses.

Trailing feather light kisses down the strong jaw of Yami, Bakura paused to suckle at the soft skin covering the speeding pulse at the base of Yami's throat before continuing his downward path towards one slightly darker skinned nub. Covering the flesh with his mouth, he drew it in and nipped at it, tearing a gasp of pleasure from his lover's throat before laving the hardening nub with his tongue in apology and moving to give the other the same treatment. His hands ghosted lightly over the golden skin, feeling the satiny texture and the play of muscles tightening and clenching beneath it, smirking against the smooth skin as Yami arched into him, bringing their hips into brief contact that tore a moan of pleasure from both throats.

Wanting to hear that delightful sound again, Bakura ground his hips into Yami's, smirking at the deep throated groan that cut through the otherwise silent room as the Pharaoh writhed desperately beneath him. Yami may have been the King of Games, but at this game he'd met his match, and Bakura fully intended to prove that to him.

"Tell me what it is you desire, my Pharaoh," he murmured, dipping his tongue into the dimple of flesh on Yami's smooth stomach and chuckling as muscles twitched and fluttered beneath him. Yami shook his head, biting his lips to hold back a delighted moan as Bakura kissed his way down to where he stood, heavy with desire and waiting for release. He sighed in disappointment as the thief bypassed the area, feathering a trail of kisses, licks, and nips down his thighs before coming back up the other side in the same way.

"Bakura," he moaned, the need in his voice practically dripping with desperation as the thief paused for a moment and lay his cheek on the top of his thigh, breathe puffing teasingly against the over-sensitized flesh. "Please . . ."

"Please what, Yami?" the pale thief whispered, tongue darting out to lick at the velvet-sheathed steel teasingly. Yami jumped in response, and he chuckled slightly as he felt desperate hands clench on his shoulders. "You're simply going to have to tell me what you want . . . that's the rules of the game."

He glanced upwards at a sudden shift in powers, red-brown eyes narrowing at the smirk that now adorned the aquiline, gold painted features of his lover.

"A game, is it?" Yami whispered, and Bakura shuddered at the heavy promise in that tenor voice. "Any other rules I should know of?" He shook his head mutely, and the smirk widened into a full fledged grin that promised pleasures beyond any he had experienced. "Good." Caught in that gaze like prey before a cobra, he was ill prepared for Yami's sudden movement. The Pharaoh sat up abruptly and spun about, until Bakura's head was resting approximately where it had been before in reverse . . . but Yami's was almost directly below his own flesh. "New rules, thief," he murmured, his tongue flicking out to tease him before withdrawing. "First one of us to lose control . . . is on bottom." Bakura had barely a second to realize his accidental slip of tongue before he was engulfed in the wet heat of Yami's mouth.

"Not . . . fair . . ." he growled, struggling to get the words past the tightening of his throat at the pleasure Yami was causing in him. "You . . . have a . . . head start . . ."

"Then you'd best get going," Yami chuckled, pausing for a moment. "Or you're going to lose." With a snarl, Bakura attacked his flesh aggressively, causing Yami to throw his head back in sheer pleasure before returning to his own task with equal abandon.

In the end, it really wasn't a fair contest . . . not that Yami was particularly concerned. As long as he won . . .

Bakura moaned, sending shivers through the lithe form beneath him at the added sensation, and felt the fire burning in the pit of his stomach hit the conflagration stage. He was slowly being consumed by it, and he hovered at the edge of his release, fighting to maintain his control. Yami played an unfair trick, reaching up with one hand to fondle him lovingly while the other pinched one coral colored nipple between finger and thumb, and that was the end of it. Arching upwards, releasing Yami with the movement, he choked a hoarse shout as his seed spilled out of him, shuddering as he felt Yami swallow around him.

Yami moved out from beneath him as he collapsed, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face as he stared down at his spent and still shuddering love.

"I win," he murmured teasingly, planting a gentle kiss on one side of the pale neck before rolling the limp form over and chuckling at the bemused and exhilarated expression on the thief's elegant features. "My turn."

Reaching toward the desk, he wrapped the shadows around a small tube lying on the far side of it and summoning it to his hand. Squeezing a small amount of it out onto his hand, he slathered it upon his hardened flesh before using what was left to reach down between his lover's legs, slipping one slick digit into the thief carefully.

The red-brown eyes went wide, flicking to Yami in surprise before Bakura relaxed and smiled back.

"To the winner goes the spoils," he murmured, and then gasped as Yami rubbed the small bundle of nerves inside him. "Holy Isis," he whispered, falling back onto the pillows as Yami added another finger and began to stretch him in preparation. He whimpered slightly as Yami withdrew, hating the fact that the Pharaoh had drawn such a weak sound from him, but unwilling to put any real effort into stopping it. As long as Yami was the only one who ever saw this side of him, he could live with it, he supposed.

His back arched, a low, ragged moan escaping him as Yami slid home, burying his flesh deep. His hands clenched into the blankets tightly, red-brown eyes closing as a feeling of completion swept through him before they opened again as Yami moved, pulling out only to slide back in harshly, brushing something within him that caused his vision to go white.

"Good gods . . . harder," he rasped. Yami complied, setting a brutal, harsh rhythm that he barely managed to keep up with, thrusting his hips against his lover as Yami moved over him. The Pharaoh claimed his lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing his moans of pleasure as they continued their dance, a penalty game that Bakura was more than willing to play.

His neglected flesh throbbed with each thrust, pulsing in time with the harsh movements as they became more erratic, and he nearly screamed when one golden hand found the again hardened flesh and pumped it.

Release was once again not long in following, and Yami managed to capture his lips once again as he did scream, warmth splashing between them before the golden figure above him stiffened, and he felt liquid heat fill him.

Yami collapsed beside him, one golden arm tossed casually across his chest, the aquiline features smoothing into a peaceful expression before the crimson eyes opened to gaze at him, the garnet orbs warm with love. Bakura trailed pale fingers over the extended limb, still trying to reconcile what had just occurred with the turmoil that had plagued him for the last eleven days. That turmoil was gone now, and for the first time in far too long, he felt . . . happy, and content.

"Bakura?" Yami whispered, and he smiled at the man . . . a genuine smile that sent shivers through Yami and stretched muscles in his face that had long been disused. "Are you all right?" Bakura nodded, the red-brown eyes acquiring their own warm glow as he looked at the man who had, wittingly or unwittingly, changed his life.

"Better than I have been in a long time, my Pharaoh," he murmured softly. He nearly frowned in disgust with himself at the tone . . . it reminded him far too much of Ryou for his own comfort . . . but he shrugged it away. This was Yami, who would be getting to know every facet of his soul, just as he would be coming to know every facet of Yami's in return. With Yami, he could allow himself to be weak. It would take time, and it would probably be a rough road . . . but for once, he found that he didn't really care. But he nearly sat bolt upright as something occurred to him. "Are you okay? You shouldn't be extending yourself so much . . ."

Yami snickered at the sudden concern, which seemed terribly out of place on the Bakura he'd been enemies with for so long. Shaking his head at the arched eyebrow that was sent his way, he settled back, reaching down to pull the blankets up around them once again.

"I'm fine, 'Kura," he replied quietly, pushing his lover back down onto the pillows before moving to cuddle up beside the pale form, resting his head wearily on one shoulder and sighing contentedly as Bakura used one arm to pull him in closer. "Merely tired." Bakura smoothed his free hand through the tri-colored locks soothingly, lightly playing with the silken strands as he sighed.

"Let's get some sleep . . . tomorrow morning is early enough to let everyone know that you're okay . . . that we're okay," he said. Yami nodded, and then chuckled slightly.

"That should be an interesting Christmas gift," he murmured. They both snickered slightly before falling silent, content to simply lie in each other's arms and allow sleep to drift over them once again.


	12. On The Twelfth Day of Christmas – Twelve...

Disclaimer – I don't own them, and probably never will. But if a certain Tomb Robber doesn't stop trying to beat me over the head for writing this, I might just have to change that somehow. Then I can make him do this shit on screen grins evilly as Bakura shudders

Author's Notes – Well, here it is . . . the final chapter. Now I suppose I had best get my butt back to working on Going On and Redemption before I'm hunted down. Before I do, however, a little reminiscing (yes, I know you will all skip this).

First off, I have never EVER done something so very . . . ummmm . . . sporadic? This was a major challenge for me . . . not because of the couple, but because I dove into it without a lot of forethought, and with an actual timeline that I intended to follow (too bad that part didn't happen, ne? Kids will do that to you, let me tell you). As you can tell by many of the chapters, I often got a chapter done and then posted it right away, without the usual triple/quadruple reading of it that I do with all my other stories.

I'm surprised it turned out as well liked as it did, and I thank all of you for giving me such wonderful support. My reviews are the reason I keep writing, so keep feeding my ego, and I keep writing you stories ; )

With that said, I will go over one review that I got that I would like to point out. Not forgetting the rest of you, but there is only so much I can say in the face of such beautiful and heart-boosting reviews.

So, to Anon, on – Thank you for pointing out my typo. That's what happens when you write at 2am on little to no sleep. At least you were nasty about it, for which I thank you. I hope that small detail didn't ruin the rest of the story for you.

And Now, without further ado, the final chapter of Twelve Days, several days late, but done before the holiday season is over, thank heavens. Happy New Year everyone!

Chapter Twelve – On The Twelfth Day of Christmas – Twelve Happy Signs

Having slept in Yami's room, unwilling to risk disturbing Yami or Bakura, Yugi awoke slightly disoriented with the feel of a warm body next to his. Turning amethyst eyes toward the wall, he smiled and relaxed as he spied Joey, snoring softly. Shaking his head in amusement at his boyfriend, he ruffled the blonde's hair lightly.

Sliding out from underneath the blankets, he strode down the hallway, pausing in his bedroom door to check on the yami's. They were both sound asleep, and the bright flush that had cursed Yami's golden complexion appeared to be gone. Sighing with relief, he padded down the stairs, his smile widening as he spied the clustered bodies in his living room. Joey was supposed to go over to his mother's later in the afternoon, as were the others . . . mostly, their parents had just been glad for the chance of getting a full nights sleep, so had allowed everyone to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning here at Yugi's house.

He drifted into the kitchen to make breakfast, his thoughts dwelling on his dark and Ryou's. They had been asleep an awfully long time . . . fever or no fever, Yami should have awoken at least once by now.

Humming Christmas carols to himself in an effort to keep from falling into worry, he set about making eggs and bacon in large quantities for his friends.

----------------------------

Yami and Bakura awoke pretty much as one, staring at each other sleepily before contented smiles flickered across their expressions and they leaned in for a brief, gentle kiss.

"Good morning, thief," Yami murmured, laying a hand over pale skin, feeling Bakura's heart thumping gently in time with his own through the soft flesh.

"Those two words should never be in the same sentence," Bakura growled softly in reply. He smiled slightly at Yami's frown, and used his free hand to brush the golden bangs back from the garnet orbs lovingly. "However . . . in this case I suppose I can make an exception." He chuckled as Yami rolled his eyes, a long-suffering sigh escaping firm lips as the Pharaoh took his teasing in stride.

"You're hopeless, 'Kura," Yami said, sitting back slightly so he could take in the full view. Tousled white hair lay spread out over the dark pillow, only adding to the rugged beauty that Bakura unconsciously portrayed as he lay there, staring up at Yami before one snowy eyebrow rose in silent question to what was going on in his mind. He merely shook his head, declining to answer for at least a few moments as he memorized this moment, storing it away safely with his most treasure memories to look at later, whenever he liked. He shifted uncomfortably as skin stretched, the feeling accompanied by white flakes falling to the dark blankets below.

Rubbing at his chest and stomach with his fingertips, he grimaced slightly before glancing back at his love.

"We need a shower before we go say hello to everyone," he murmured. Bakura nodded, feeling the stiffness of his own skin. He stood and then reached down to help Yami to his feet, frowning slightly when the Pharaoh staggered a little before gaining his equilibrium.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he said, red-brown eyes darkening with concern. To hell with the fact that he sounded like a sap . . . it was Yami, and he wasn't about to have his one love keel over because he'd pushed himself too hard. Someone had to protect Yami from his own stubbornness. Yami smiled at him, and he simply wanted to melt into a puddle before mentally smacking himself for such stupidity. Anubis take him, he was turning into Ryou.

"I'm fine, Bakura," he replied, shaking his head at the concern. Bakura being over-protective . . . who would have thought it was possible? "Come on . . . we'd best get in there and back before anyone wakes." Reaching out, he captured one pale hand and tugged, pulling the thief along behind him as he crossed the hallway to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind them. Leaving Bakura to stand by the sink, he strode to the shower and turned the water on, fiddling with the faucets to get the temperature at an appropriate level.

Red-brown eyes ran hungrily over the golden form, taking it's fill of the long, muscular legs and lean back . . . and backside . . . happily. Did Yami even realize how purely delectable he looked when he wasn't in leather? Of course, in leather he was downright lethal to look at . . . but that was a view he had to share with everyone. He was the only person who would get to see Yami like this . . . all golden skin and lithe muscle, strong and yet soft somehow. Whatever god had decided to take him in their favor, he was grateful.

Padding over to the still bent figure, he pressed into Yami's back, letting his lover feel his renewed passion as he nipped at the exposed neck teasingly. Yami purred in response, pressing back against his hips and bringing their flesh into more delightful contact.

"Bakura . . ." he moaned as pale fingers danced over his skin before probing him. "By Ra . . . you really are insatiable." He chuckled slightly, and then gasped as he was penetrated slowly.

"I have five thousand years of celibacy to make up for, as do you," Bakura murmured into his ear, running his tongue over the fragile golden shell lovingly. "I don't see why we can't start making up for it every chance we get."

"Our shower . . ." Yami choked, feeling another finger enter and slowly begin to stretch.

"Water is a good thing," the thief replied, trailing kisses down the shivering back before going to his knees to reach through the parted legs with his other hand, fondling Yami gently. "That way we'll get clean and messy at the same time." Yami sighed with loss as he rose and moved away, only to squeak slightly as Bakura stepped over him into the shower, pulling him inside before pulling the knob to redirect the water. They stood under the running water together as their lips met in a hungry kiss, hands exploring water-slicked flesh with abandon before the pale man lifted his lover and impaled him. Yami threw his head back, a moan drifting on the misty air as he was filled by Bakura's flesh, wrapping his legs around the slim waist as his back hit the slightly cooler tile of the wall. It was a good thing he was so much lighter . . .

Such considerations flew rapidly out of his mind as Bakura moved against him, thrusting into him as the man leaned in to suckle on one coral colored nub. Golden fingers wrapped around the pale shoulders, holding on desperately as his vision began waver at the immense pleasure.

"So . . . Ra damned . . . tight . . ." Bakura growled against his chest, worrying the nub of flesh between his teeth as Yami rocked against him impatiently. His bangs dripped water into his face, and he shoved them out of his way irritably as he glanced up and met the hazy crimson gaze of his lover.

"I'm not . . . going . . . to break . . ." Yami panted, trying to get some leverage so he could add to the movement. "Damn it, Bakura . . . harder, please . . ." he murmured, finally giving up on getting his own leverage to increase the pace. He whimpered as Bakura did the exact opposite, slowing down to the point of almost not moving and then growled at his lover as the thief smirked at him. "Tomb Robber . . ." he growled warningly, and then bit back a scream as his white-haired love rammed into him, sparks flying up his spine to explode before his eyes. The friction of their bodies rubbing against each other meant that his own flesh was far from neglected from sensation, and he gasped as Bakura took a nip at his exposed throat harshly.

Another thrust sent him over the edge, and he shuddered in the thief's grip as his mind and body shut down. He felt Bakura join him moments later, warmth flooding him as the thief growled out his own passion against the flesh of his neck

"Now we can get clean," he murmured hoarsely, and felt Bakura chuckle against him before the thief moved back, disengaging from their intimate position reluctantly.

"I suppose," he replied, reaching out to pull Yami into his chest as one hand reached for the soap. He poured some onto a bathing puff, lathering it gently before running it over the golden skin, washing away the remains of their passionate dance from last night and moments ago. Yami sighed in pleasure, relaxing in his grip as the warm water and even warmer hands did their work before accepting the soapy item to return the favor. He lingered over the scars in the pale flesh, running gentle fingers over them before leaving the questions for another time. He would have an eternity to ask where those wounds had come from.

Setting the puff down after rinsing it thoroughly, he reached for the shampoo, rubbing it between his hands before forcing the lithe, pale figure to turn around and burying his hands in the snowy locks, running the white strands through his fingers lovingly as he washed it, massaging into Bakura's scalp until the thief was practically purring with delight. Filing that bit of information away for later, he lightly ran his nails down Bakura's spine, grinning as shiver's crept under the pale flesh before the red-brown eyes turned to look at him over one shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, 'Kura," he whispered, and warmed at the genuine smile that crossed the elegant features of the thief. If he had his way, he would see that smile for the rest of his unnatural life, and love every glimpse of it.

"Same to you, my Pharaoh," Bakura replied. The rest of the shower was spent in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

----------------------------

Yugi smiled as the sound of running water finally faded, glancing at the ceiling in amusement. Why Joey had felt the need to take a shower first thing in the morning was beyond him, especially since the blonde had been so pushy about trying to open presents last night. Yugi would have thought he'd be too impatient to open the gifts to bother with a shower. Shrugging, he lay plates down in front of the remaining friends, who had already awoken and gathered around the kitchen table. Presents came after breakfast . . . it was a tradition in the Motou household, and not one that Yugi was going to break, whether or not his grandfather was here.

He was nearly startled out of his wits when Bakura ghosted into the kitchen, ruffling Ryou's hair in an oddly affectionate gesture before snagging two plates off the counter, threw a smile Yugi's way, and then promptly drifted back out of the kitchen to the living room. Five pairs of eyes stared after him in confusion before a round of raised eyebrows and questioning looks were shared before Tristan, Tea, Duke, Ryou, and Yugi all headed for the living room to see what the hell that strange moment was all about.

Amethyst and chocolate widened as the two young hikari's found their yami's comfortably entwined on the couch, settling down to eat the food Bakura had just come in to snag. Everyone else was equally as stunned at the strange sight.

Yami glanced up, smiling at the flabbergasted looks on his friend's faces before snuggling back into Bakura, who had one arm comfortably draped around his shoulders while eating with the other hand, bare feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Good morning everyone," he murmured, breaking the stunned silence. The shattered silence served as a tension breaker, and the five friends surged forward to welcome Yami back among the living before a low growl from Bakura warned all but the two hikari's to back off.

"Are you okay, Yami?" Yugi asked in concern, settling lightly onto the couch next to his dark. Yami nodded, his gaze flickering across his friends to include all of them in the answer, another soft smile crossing his lips as they all relaxed.

"Far better than I have been in a long time, little light," Yami said warmly, causing Yugi to flush slightly at the endearment. The amethyst eyes widened as his dark reached up to caress the pale hand draped over his shoulder lightly before he turned to share a bemused glance with Ryou.

"Did you two . . ." he began, and then paused, trying to figure how exactly to ask the question he wanted an answer to. It certainly seemed like the two of them had gotten everything straightened out between them . . .

"Everything is fine, aibou," the former Pharaoh murmured, and Bakura leaned down to nuzzle his hair before nodding in support of the answer. "We have sorted out our . . . differences." Bakura chuckled at that, causing Yami to swat him over the head, while everyone stared at them in shock.

"That's great!" Tea joined in, clapping her hands together in front of her happily. "I'm so happy for you two."

"That much is obvious," Bakura grumbled in Yami's ear, which caused the Pharaoh to snort in an attempt not to outright laugh. Bakura did have a point . . . Tea did tend to get rather overzealous when she went on one of her happiness/friendship streaks. He shook his head and glanced reprovingly at his lover, who looked not a bit put out by the rebuff.

"Bakura . . ." Ryou murmured hesitantly, unsure of how much leeway he had with his own dark. He squeaked slightly when Bakura wrapped his free arm around the young boy, pulling him onto his lap and ruffling his hair lightly. Yami had shifted to pull his own aibou into a hug, and they all remained in a warm pile on the couch as Ryou settled against his dark's chest, a confused wonder evident on his face at his dark's more affectionate nature.

The remaining friends shared amused, happy looks between them, pleased with the turn of events. Admittedly, seeing Bakura in such a different mood was . . . well, frankly, it was frightening, but the happiness that seemed to simply flow off of Yami in waves more than made up for that unsettling change. They settled into different chairs, happily chatting amongst themselves while occassionaly casting amused glances at the four individuals residing on the couch.

The momentary peace was shattered when Joey came thundering down the stairs, skidding to a halt in front of the tree.

"Time to open presents!" he announced, drawing chuckles and sigh of tolerant amusement from his friends. "Hi Yami, hi Bakura." That made him pause, his thoughts slithering to a halt as he spun around to face the two amused yami's, one of which was grinning up at him while the other glowered at him over a shoulder. "Holy shit!"

"Shut your mouth before I do it for you, mutt," Bakura growled, red eyes narrowing at the blonde. He grunted slightly as his ribs took a double impact . . . one from Ryou's elbow, and the other from Yami's fist. This, of course, gave Joey ample time to stick his foot in his mouth again.

"When did the two of you become chums?" he asked, amber eyes widening as Bakura turned to glare at Yami instead, who shook his head reprovingly at the thief.

"Last night, Joey," Yami replied, clapping a hand over Bakura's mouth as the thief went to make a scathing retort . . . probably along the lines of 'we're not chums, you idiot, we're lovers'. "We straightened everything out."

"I know a couple of things that we bent too . . ." the Tomb Robber mumbled against his hand. Yami blushed as everyone looked at the two of them with wide eyes. Yugi decided to rescue his dark from further embarrassment by rising to hug his lover and then turning to the presents to begin handing them out.

Amid the flying wrapping paper balls and bows, Bakura reached down and pulled up a box, handing it to Yami reluctantly. One dark eyebrow rose in question, but he didn't bother to speak as he bent to the task of opening it carefully. He gasped as he revealed what was in it, raising confused eyes to Bakura as the thief actually flushed slightly.

"I . . . acquired it from you back in Egypt," he murmured, as Yami lifted the heavy gold bracelet from the box, settling it on his arm with a feeling of rightness. "I thought you might like it back." Yami nodded slightly, turning wondering eyes to the piece of jewelry. A piece of his past . . . one that Bakura had kept for five thousand years, had been restored to him. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he quietly asked Yugi through their link if he would get the box behind the tree for him. Yugi brought it to him, smiling secretly as he watched Yami hand it to the thief. He knew what was in there . . . and he knew how heart-broken his dark had been while he'd wrapped it, thinking that it was going to be one gift that would never be opened again.

Bakura, unlike the Pharaoh, tore into the wrapping like a hurricane, flinging the wadded up paper at Joey before turning back to the box. He opened it warily . . . Ra above only knew what kind of practical jokes Yami might have felt like playing at the time . . . and red-brown eyes widened as he spied the matching pair of rings, carved with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

_Across time and space_

_Two hearts become one_

_United for eternity_

_My love for yours_

He raised slightly watery eyes to his lover, who reached across him and picked up one of the bands before grabbing his hand and sliding it onto his ring finger.

"I couldn't think of anything more appropriate at the time," Yami whispered, and then squeaked as Bakura tackled him, pinning him to the couch before taking his lips in a passionate kiss. For several moments they dueled, before remembering that they had an audience. They parted, both looking towards the assembled friends, who were staring at them with bemused and slightly embarrassed faces. Backing off of the Pharaoh, Bakura snatched the other ring, sliding it onto the same finger on Yami that his own rested on before raising the hand and pressing his own to it, palm to palm.

"Eternity," he whispered. Yami smiled, nodding slightly.

"Eternity," he replied, equally as soft. Bakura gave him an answering smile before flopping backward, dragging him with the movement until he lay sprawled against the pale man, his head tucked under Bakura's chin. He chuckled slightly at the predicament before cuddling into the embrace, closing his eyes to listen to the thief's heartbeat in contentment.

'My Pharaoh,' Bakura thought possessively, tightening his arms around the golden figure. He stared down at their entwined hands, gaze resting on the matching rings that adorned them. He may never get along with the others . . . actually, he considered it highly unlikely . . . but he could tolerate them for Yami, because they were his love's friends. However, that didn't mean he had to be one wit nicer to them . . . he did have a reputation to maintain after all.

Speaking of his reputation, there was at least one person in the room who he would have to change that with . . . his hikari. Glancing towards Ryou, he was surprised to find that his little light had not moved very far . . . was actually sitting beside him, on the floor near the couch.

I know I haven't been the best yami to you, Ryou . . . he began, only to stop when the boy rested a light hand on his arm.

What's in the past is in the past, Bakura, Ryou replied quietly. You and Yami have put aside your differences . . . can I really do any less? I happy for you, my dark. The two of you need each other. Bakura shared a small smile with the young Brit before his eyes roamed over the others. They were all studiously ignoring him and Yami now, which was all to the good. He hated being the center of attention . . . well the center of anyone's attention other than the Pharaoh's. Maybe that's why he'd been such a pain in the ass for so long . . .

Putting that aside for later thought, he settled into the couch comfortably. For now, he had everything he could have ever thought to want . . . and it was more than he had ever hoped for.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," Yugi said from where he stood in Joey's arms. The other's echoed the sentiment, and in the back of two former spirit's minds, it was the best first Christmas they could ever have had.


End file.
